


All Quiet on the Eastern Coast

by callah_pissaro



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Backstory, Canon Compliant, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Friendship/Love, Multi, Teen Angst, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24056002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callah_pissaro/pseuds/callah_pissaro
Summary: On the Outer Banks, the Pogues are more than friends, they're a tight-knit family. That is until they meet Stevie, a loner on the run with nothing but a knife and old fishing boat. JJ enlists her help in discovering the Royal Merchant, but maybe it's Stevie who really needs helping. Is it fate that brings these delinquents together? Is it work of good luck or bad? Regardless, the group is stuck with her after she makes a risky deal with JJ, which solidifies their friendship and her new place among the Pogues.Warning: Mild violence, language, and reference to drugs.
Relationships: JJ (Outer Banks) & Everyone, JJ (Outer Banks)/Original Female Character(s), Kiara & Pope (Outer Banks), Sarah Cameron & JJ & Kiara & Pope & John B. Routledge, Sarah Cameron/John B. Routledge
Comments: 16
Kudos: 56





	1. Welcome to the Shit Hole

I

The back of John B’s van, or the Twinkie as everyone ironically calls it, was usually a hazy oasis for hot boxing and narrowly avoiding the police. But amidst the laughter, smoke, and Red Hot Chili Peppers (unironically enjoyed), JJ felt a bit tense as they pulled into the impound lot. Maybe it was the thought of his Dad idling around this place, getting fired, hitting a 12-pack, and then hitting JJ, that made him a bit nervous to break in and steal the drone. Or maybe it was just the spliff making JJ feel in the wrong direction. He wanted to feel less, he wanted to feel out— outside of himself. Like he was floating on the surface of his body, incapable of experiencing pain or even thought. But lately, smoking made him feel deeper, like he was falling inside of himself, and his life was caving in. 

_ Fuck it _ . JJ thought, snubbing out his spliff and as he got out of the van.  _ Just get the drone and get the gold and get the hell out of this shit-hole life.  _

“How’re we gonna get past that guard?” wondered Pope as they assessed the scene. JJ had forgotten the security, and John B barely had a plan. 

“I don’t know Pope,” JJ instigated, “suck his dick?”

“Shut up dude,” John B. groaned. 

“All of you shut up,” said Kiara, scolding the boys, “I got this.” 

JJ laughed, unsurprised. Kiara gave half a smirk before heading towards the guard. She may have been a feminist, but she was willing to put her morals aside to help her friends. Using sexism in your favor is basically feminism, right? JJ thought. Now was their chance, JJ checked the gun in his pants, just in case. 

Following John B’s lead, the boys snuck over the fence and into the lot, with only a vague incling on the drone’s whereabouts. 

“What do we even do once we get this thing?” Pope said as they wandered through the lot. Sailboats rose from the ground like ruins. There was rotting wood, tireless cars, plastic bags caught in mainsails and antennae. 

“We’ll get there when we get there,” John B assured them, with his usual lofty confidence. 

“Is that really your best plan?” replied Pope, “Just winging it?” 

“Don’t worry about it Pope,” JJ said, secretly worrying about it, “we always figure it out, balls to the wall, baby.”

“I don’t think you know what balls to wall means.”

“It means balls to the freaking wall, it’s not that complicated.”

“Well it’s actually a term used by pilots when—”

A bark suddenly interrupted Pope’s diatribe, it was the guard dog, running towards them with its teeth glaring. 

“Fuck,” they all said in some way or another. 

JJ jumped out of dodge and into the nearest boat for cover, while John B and Pope went running towards the fence with the dog close behind. So much for winging it. 

Before JJ could think of his next move, he noticed a sleeping bag on the boat deck, a person-size lump. Was it… moving? 

“ _ What the fuck?”  _ JJ whispered, ducking for cover since Kiara’s efforts to distract the guard had definitely failed by then. 

“Shit!” the sleeping bag replied. A girl emerged from it, frazzled, grungy, and armed with a knife.

“Don’t come any closer!” She whispered harshly, bearing her teeth just like the dog. “If you want to steal from me, go ahead. But if you touch me,  _ I swear to god _ .” 

JJ, shocked, lifted his hands in surrender. He recognized the desperation behind her feral appearance. The sunburnt skin, ravaged with hunger and acne scars. The cracking lips, bony limbs, and a piercing gaze with something smiling beneath it— a deviousness that took pleasure in misdeed and delinquency. Yet also a sadness, that it all came from trauma, which was now self-inflicted. 

_ “Hey!”  _ The guard called from somewhere. JJ ducked, staring at the girl, and she stared right back, almost with indifference. She looked so familiar, but JJ couldn’t place her. 

“What do you want!” She hissed, backing away from him like a snake in her sleeping bag. 

“Nothing!” JJ insisted, “I am trying to steal something, just not from you.” 

“You’re JJ,” she said, lowering her knife, but only a bit.

“Uh… yeah.” 

“I see you around the Boneyard sometimes,” she explained, “When you held that gun to Topper’s head I lost my shit,” she paused, tucking away her knife. All her anger and fear had turned into intrigue. 

“Do you still have that gun?” She asked keenly. 

“Yeah,” JJ smirked, feeling a bit smug. Then it finally clicked. He did know her, they went to the same middle school. 

“You’re Stevie, aren’t you?” JJ said, pulling out the gun to show her, though the way she looked at it, mesmerized, made him a bit nervous. 

“Yup. I have tits now and I look like a crackwhore, but…” she looked at him, laughing a bit, “what could I do to get that gun from you? Just for a loan? Like, one night?” 

JJ narrowed his eyes, Stevie was interesting, that’s for sure, but could he trust her? He heard the dogs barking again and remembered why he was there in the first place. He had to get back to the van somehow, and find the drone. 

“I don’t know about that,” he said, peering over the edge of the boat to see where the guard had gone off to. “Have you seen a drone around here by any chance?” 

“The deep diver? That’s what you came here to steal? If you want, I can get it for you right now.” 

JJ couldn’t believe it, maybe winging it is actually going to work out. 

“But only if you lend me your gun,” she added as she unzipped her sleeping bag and frantically rolled it up. 

“Fuck it, okay.” JJ relented, after giving it a second of thought, which was the most thought he’d given any decision in awhile. A night with a gun was better than a cut of the gold, in any case. 

Stevie, in a matter of seconds, had put on her boots, whipped out a camping backpack, and was ready to go. Although she seemed feral, even a bit unhinged, she seemed alright, JJ thought. She was a pogue through and through. 

Dog treats somehow materialized in her hand, and she jumped out of the boat with almost as much confidence as John B.  _ Genius _ , JJ thought. 

“The dogs are actually really sweet when you get to know them,” she conceded, “now follow me.” 

  
  


II 

  


“I assume you’re not taking this just to play around in the deep end,” Stevie said to John B after they finished loading the drone into the van. 

“I was thinking,” she added, “do y’all need a hand? I got a Longliner—”

“No we’re fine, no hands needed,” Kiara butted in, glaring at JJ. 

“She  _ does _ have a Longliner,” JJ emphasized, a bit confused why Kiara was so defensive. 

“Hey, we appreciate it Stevie but…” John B trailed off. He knew the dangers of getting someone else involved, especially a random semi-homeless girl, but maybe using her fishing boat would be better than “borrowing” one from the Camerons. 

“I get it, I get it,” Stevie nodded, “I just thought you might need help piloting the drone.” 

“Whoa, what?” JJ said, turning towards Stevie. 

“You can pilot a drone?” Pope asked, sounding a bit relieved. 

“We already have a pilot,” Kiara insisted, with a little more force, “right Pope?”

“I mean, I’ve never done it before! It’s complex machinery Kee!” 

“So you’re telling me, you’ll help with the drone  _ and  _ let us use your boat,” John B. asked, summing up what sounded like a pretty good deal to him.

“That is what I’m saying,” Stevie assured. She may have been a vagrant, but she still was resourceful. And in any case, it’s not like the gang could judge her for her delinquency. 

“And don’t worry about paying me back when you find whatever dumb treasure you’re looking for,” she added, “JJ and I already made a deal.” 

Everyone looked at JJ, confused. 

“Pogue meeting, now!” Kiara huffed, grabbing JJ by the arm and pulling him to the other side of the van. 

“JJ, what the hell.” Kiara exclaimed. “You were supposed to get the drone not get another person involved!” 

“What  _ deal _ did you make with her dude!” Pope asked with a hint of disgust. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” JJ said, frustrated, “Without her we wouldn’t even have the drone right now! And she wants to borrow my gun, that’s it!” 

“Your gun!” Pope and Kiara exclaimed. 

“For what? Why?” Pope continued. 

“Does it matter?” JJ replied, still frustrated by his friends. 

“I’d rather Stevie have the gun than  _ you _ ,” Kiara said, relenting a little bit to the idea of a stranger joining their team. 

“We just get her help now and wing the rest, right John B?” JJ proposed, looking towards the madman behind the whole operation. 

“I see where you're coming from Kee,” John B said, “but we could really use her, and that boat. This kind of feels like fate guys, like we were supposed to get her help or something.” 

“Oh don’t start with the spiritual bullshit,” Kiara said to John B before climbing back into the van. She’d had enough. 

“Also, I can’t pilot a freaking drone!” Pope added. 

“Yeah, you’re welcome guys.” said JJ. 

“So it’s settled then,” John B decided, “Stevie’s on board. Now let’s get the hell out of here.” 

JJ sighed, then walked over to Stevie, who probably had heard their whole debate. 

“Get in the van,” JJ said, almost smiling. 

“I knew you guys needed me,” she replied, half joking. 

“So can I get your gun now?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

  
  


III 

  


Back at John B’s, Pope and Stevie were operating the drone while Kiara and John B swam around it, testing functionality and talking logistics. JJ dangled his feet off the deck, feeling less than useful and a bit bored by the whole thing.

“It’s 900 feet down, we have to keep control of that line or else we’ll lose the drone” said Kiara as she emerged from the water.

“We’ll definitely need the weather on our side then,” John B added. 

“I just can’t believe we got this working,” Pope grinned, “It’s like a videogame.” 

“A lame ass videogame,” JJ mocked, “but can I try?” 

“Shut up,” Pope laughed as John B flipped off the drone’s camera, “if you think this is lame then go find your own shipwreck to discover.” 

“Lame is a gross understatement,” Stevie noted, “I don’t know what I was expecting from all this, but definitely not the Royal Merchant. This is  _ quite _ the summer camp you got going on here.” 

“What  _ were _ you expecting?” JJ asked, looking up at her, “What kind of stuff were you doing with the drone before?” 

“Definitely not looking for shipwrecks,” she sighed, looking out at the water, “Most recently, to get a water-tight crate full of cocaine from the seafloor, so kind of similar.” 

“You’re joking,” Kiara practically gasped. Pope just stared at her like she had destroyed his merit scholarship. But JJ could tell she wasn’t joking— her fear when they first met, her need for a gun, it was all adding up, and piquing his interest. 

“Well, my Mom used to use the drone back in the day, and I’d help her,” Stevie vaguely elaborated, “It’s surprising what comes in handy when you’re kind of a drug dealer.” 

“No way,” John B challenged her, “You’re telling us you were moving  _ coke _ on a fishing boat?”

“Well I couldn’t use a jet ski could I?” she joked, “And it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not, I’m not mixed up in that shit anymore.” 

“So you don’t have any drugs?” JJ asked, a bit disappointed. 

“I have crack if you want,” she smiled, “I made it myself.” 

Pope and Kiara shared a look of disgust, but JJ had to think for a minute if crack was chill or not. 

“I’m  _ joking _ ,” Stevie laughed, “Oh my god, the look on your faces.”

John B laughed at Pope and Kiara, who were both sighing with relief. JJ grinned a bit, Stevie may call herself a crackhead, but the way she held herself was pretty cool, he thought. 

“Only  _ real _ Pogues do crack,” John B added. 

“It’s about time we turned this house into a meth lab,” JJ joked along. Stevie smiled a bit, feeling more comfortable with these kids than she thought she would. 

“If Pogues do crack then I’m going full Kook,” Pope said, “Now how do we shut the drone down?” he asked Stevie. 

“All crack aside,” Kiara laughed, “I don’t think we can go on our little mission today.” 

“The weather is ass,” JJ said in agreement. 

“Then tomorrow,” John B proposed, already back with his serious demeanor as he walked off to analyze the coordinates and maps a little further. 

“Sounds good!” Kiara called towards him. 

“Sounds groovy,” JJ added. 

“Hey I gotta head out,” Kiara said, “My Dad needs me at the restaurant. You want a ride, Pope?” 

“Yeah, probably a good idea.” 

“You’re not gonna ask me if I want a ride?” JJ whined. 

“No,” Kiara scoffed, “You basically live here. Bye!” 

“Thanks Stevie,” Pope said as they walked off, “see you guys!” 

With Pope and Kiara gone, JJ and Stevie stood alone on the dock. He smiled at her awkwardly, not really knowing what else to do. She looked down at her feet, not knowing what to do either, then went back to putting the drone away. JJ followed to help. 

“So I guess I can get that gun from you tomorrow then?” She said lightly. 

“I guess so,” JJ relented, “Why do you need it so bad anyway?” 

Stevie grimaced, then grabbed the drone to take it inside. 

“Let’s just say I have some unfinished business.” 

“You’re not gonna, like, kill anyone are you?” 

“Don’t cross me and I won’t have to,” Stevie said. Sarcasm seemed to be her M.O., probably a defense mechanism for covering up her secrets, which JJ could tell she had a lot of. Together they dropped the gear off inside, and Stevie took a look around while JJ headed towards the kitchen. 

“This place is a mess,” she said, noticing the spilled tortilla chips, empty bottles, and various boy clothes draped over the couch. 

“Do John’s parents not care or something?”

“John B,” JJ corrected, “And no, they’re not around. You want a beer?”

“I’m okay, I should probably head out too.” 

“Back to the impound yard?”

“Well...” Stevie shrugged, she didn’t really know where to go, or what to do. 

“Why are you sleeping there anyway?” JJ questioned. He couldn’t believe a 16 year old girl was just wandering around with a sleeping bag, with no money and switchblade. 

“Why not sleep on your own boat or something?”

“That would be too obvious,” she tried to explain, “If someone wanted to find me...” 

JJ took a big swig of his beer. Now he understood Stevie’s issues a bit better. She was in trouble, she’d been involved in some drug ring and something went wrong. And she needed the gun for revenge, probably. Although she was there to help the team, JJ could see that she was the one who really needed helping.

“But I have my sleeping bag—”

“Shut up and grab a beer, Stevie,” JJ interrupted, realizing he should do the right thing, “Just stay here for now.” 

“But…” she wanted to say no but, what other options did she have? 

“John B won’t care, this place is basically juvi already.” 

“Well I guess… uh...okay,” Stevie relented, “Thanks dude.” 

“Hey, I’m just trying to protect society from knife wielding maniacs,” JJ joked. 

Stevie laughed and looked at JJ instead of looking back down at her feet. For the first time in a while she felt lucky. It’s not often that people offer her help or do her any favors. But then she remembered that she was just there to find the shipwreck, and when that was done she would probably be wandering the backroads again, looking for home in inhospitable places. She felt a bit awkward opening the fridge and grabbing a beer. Over the past few months, her tolerance for hunger had grown to the point where she often forgot about her bodily needs. Suddenly, she felt that 2-day pit in her stomach, and thought she might pass out. 

“Uh, JJ,” she asked. He got up at the sound of concern in her voice. 

“Yeah, what is it?” 

“Do you guys have food or something?” 

The question was sour in her mouth. She hated this, she hated looking helpless and forgotten, but she hated starving a bit more. 

“Yeah take whatever,” JJ opened the cabinets and saw that their supplies were pretty piece-meal. 

“And by whatever I mean cornflakes and a jar of peanut butter.” 

“No way!” Stevie exclaimed, grabbing both with a grin like it was some sort of delicacy. 

“Got any spoons?

After a feast of dry cereal and spoonfuls of peanut butter, Stevie passed out on the couch in her overalls and boots. JJ wondered if he did the right thing by getting Stevie involved, but maybe it was meant to be, like John B said. As night fell, the Routledge house felt a little more full, and it’s transient residents, a little more hopeful that they were going to make something significant with their lives. 

  
  
  



	2. Sleeping with the Drowned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went on a deep dive writing this, I don't know why. This wasn't even what the chapter was supposed to be but I had some ideas and images I want to explore. I swear it's all leading up to something, there is a method to my madness! The next chapters are going to be very exciting, still just setting the scene with this one. Thanks for reading :)

Sometimes, JJ dreamed of a woman. He would hear her muted voice falling from above, distant and incomprehensible. He opened his eyes and everything around him was white. His hands were fuzzy and distant too, floating like they were detached from his body. Then he heard a low rumble surrounding him, as if rising from the earth. The woman called to him, but he could barely discern her words. _JJ, my little fish!_ It was his mom. She was trying to reach him, but the rumbling was taking over, he was losing his breath. When he finally broke the surface and gasped for air, the bath had been emptied. His mom was gone. _Come up now JJ, even a fish can drown._ The voice fell around him as if through water. Distant, without echo.

When JJ woke up it was barely dawn. He didn’t bother looking at the clock. A coldness lingered around him, like he really did just get out of a tub without a towel. He wondered, how could he hear his mom without seeing her face? Maybe it was his mind trying to hold on to the last thing he remembered about her— the sound of her voice. Part of him wanted to roll a joint, but he was fresh out of weed. _Though Stevie might not be,_ he thought conivingly. In the living room, Stevie was right where he had left her, boots and all. He looked at her backpack, paused for a minute, then pulled it into the bedroom for examination. It wasn’t an especially precise dissection— JJ basically ripped the whole bag apart, ignoring the lame stuff like bathing suits and underwear, until he found something interesting. A little pouch fell from a t-shirt, the only t-shirt she had. _This girl is basically a monk,_ he thought. He unzipped the pouch, the perfect bud-spot, but found only cash and tampons. _So that’s what girls use those for,_ he realized. He also found a walkman with a Sound of Music CD in it, not what he was expecting. He put the headphones on and played the first song. Violins fluttered, birdlike, then horns rushed in. It was the sound of wind on a mountainside. JJ couldn’t remember seeing the movie, but it felt painfully nostalgic as he rummaged through Stevie’s scant personal belongings. 

He unzipped the pocket while the symphony roared in his ears. Then he found it, the treasure. _The hills are alive, with the sound of music!_ It was Trojans and lube folded inside a bandana. JJ held one of the condoms up to the light as Julie Andrews sang in his ears. The silver packaging glimmered in the morning sun, it was like he had just dug up some ancient artifact. He searched through the rest of the pocket, finding only a lace bra-thing and a single-pearl necklace. That could be worth something, he thought, but he didn’t want to take it. He didn’t even want to take the cash in her purse or her surprisingly dope Walkman. A Trojan would be enough, JJ rationalized, because you never knew when sexual lightning might strike. Though why would Stevie need condoms in the first place? Who was she even fucking? Then JJ’s thoughts went dark, maybe she was involved in some _really_ bad stuff. He repacked her bag, haphazardly, then threw it back where he had found it. He wanted to tell Pope about the condoms and ask him what he thought, but he knew Pope would just judge him for going through Stevie’s stuff. Especially in an effort to steal weed.

 _I am shitty, aren’t I?_ JJ thought as he looked down at Stevie. Who knew what she was dreaming about. Money? Coke? Friends? All the things she didn’t have. She didn’t look like the type to be involved in that kind of business, but then again, did anyone look like who they really were? JJ definitely wasn’t a fish anymore, swimming around in his Mother’s bathtub. But part of JJ knew, despite the violence, and the laughs, and the shotgunned beers, that he would always be that kid, floating underwater, listening for a guiding voice that had long since gone.

II

Stevie dreamt she was high. It was December again, in the corner of Barry’s bedroom where thin ribbons of light arked over the wall, forcing their way through the blinds that restrained them. Nothing could keep them at bay, and they wriggled like worms in Stevies hand. Eventually she stopped laughing, though she didn’t even realize she was in the first place. There were thuds coming from the walls around her, then there was Barry. He was talking numbers, ounces, figures, quantities that Stevie couldn’t comprehend. _You think you’d get a cut of this? 10k?_ She was slowly sliding down the wall as his voice grew louder, and the numbers grew bigger, until everything was gone except for the stripes of light. _You’re lucky I even keep you around, bitch._ Stevie kept sliding, she was laughing so hard it hurt, so hard she couldn’t stop.

When Stevie awoke it was just about noon. She was still on the couch, boots and all, and her left arm was on fire with pins and needles. _Damn, I slept hard,_ she thought. Usually, Stevie slept in shifts, too anxious to linger in dreams unprotected. But today she was on a couch, in a house, in the semblance of safety. But she still couldn’t be too sure. No matter where she was, she dreamt about Barry and the months she spent under his thumb, getting nothing but squashed flat. The grog of sleep left her dry mouthed and bleary, and excruciatingly aware of her state. She was dirty, malnourished, with no friends or family to turn to. Whoever these pogues were, they were her only hope from rotting in a shit-hole, all alone.

 _Enough with the dramatics,_ she told herself, _wallowing in self-pity is good for nothing._ She wiped the crust from her eyes and mouth as she stood up, looking around at the day that had already seemed to have fallen on John B’s house. The place was quiet, save the distant sound of boats.

“JJ? John B?” Stevie called.

  
Nobody was home. She wasn’t surprised that they left her behind. It’s not like they had become her babysitters overnight, but she did wonder when they would set out to look for the Royal Merchant. Before Stevie could wonder any further, she saw a neat pile on the littered coffee table. It was a towel, some soap, deodorant, a pair of shorts and a big tee. It was clearly for her, and in that case she was glad no one was around. Now she didn’t have to pretend to be reluctant, she grabbed it immediately and scurried to the bathroom.

It was baptismal, stepping in the cold shower. Stevie knew it was a corny feeling, but that’s what happens when you haven’t showered in weeks. She tried not to linger too long, scrubbing her arms and legs with the rigid movements of a mechanic oiling a machine. When all the dirty suds had dissipated and the water ran clear over her feet, Stevie finally gave herself a moment of peace. She took a deep breath and held her face directly in the glacial stream, letting it rush over her eyes, mouth, and ears, numbing all her senses, until even her thoughts were vacant and pristine. Exhale. She turned the water off. The air was a welcome warmth that wrapped around her skin. Sometimes you need to succumb to bitterness, to cold, in order to experience the deepest heat.

While avoiding eye contact with the mirror, Stevie threw on the shorts and t-shirt they had given her and left the bathroom. Her physical and mental state was a little more bearable now. When putting her overalls away, she noticed her backpack was all mixed up, like someone had unpacked it then threw it back together. She checked her purse, but everything dollar and tampon was intact. _Who can I trust?_ But before she could contemplate any further, John B and Kiara were walking into the house, fresh from the beach.

“Hey Stevie,” John B greeted her with genuine amicability, Stevie thought.

“Hey,” Kiara said with a lot less enthusiasm.

“Thanks for the stuff guys,” Stevie said right off the bat, pushing away the pride that told her to deny all generosity. John B could tell she really appreciated it, and he thought it felt nice doing something objectively good for a change.

“Don’t thank me, it was all John B,” Kiara quipped, “He said you smelled like you hadn’t showered in weeks.”

“No, I did _not_ ,” John B glared at Kiara, “I said it _looked_ like you hadn’t showered in weeks.”

“Well thank you anyway,” Stevie said to Kiara, hoping to maybe get some positive energy from her, “both those things are probably true.”

“No problem,” John B said.

  
“Where’s Pope and JJ?” asked Kiara, looking around the Chateau.

  
“I don’t know,” Stevie shrugged as she sat down on the couch, “I just woke up.”

  
“Well they better get back soon,” John B warned, “we’re setting sail at 13:00 hours.”

  
“You mean 1 o’clock?” Kiara sassed.

  
“Nope, I didn’t.”

  
“You’re ridiculous,” Kiara scoffed as she threw herself onto the couch beside Stevie.

  
“I’m the captain kie, show some respect!”

  
Kiara just gave him a funny look and the finger, making Stevie chuckle a bit.

  
“See, even Stevie thinks you’re ridiculous!”

  
“No she doesn’t,” John B replied, jokingly, “you know what, she’s my first mate now.”

  
“Yeah kie you’re demoted,” JJ laughed as he and Pope ran through the door, sweating in their swim trunks, “Stevie’s more Pogue than you anyway.”

  
“That is true, from a technical standpoint,” Pope pointed out.

  
Kiara glared, flipping them off too, while Stevie just shook her head and suppressed a smile. It was nice to feel some sort of accepted, but she didn’t want to have to compete with Kiara for it.

  
“Where’ve you guys been?” the Captain questioned. JJ and Pope looked at each other, wide-eyed, and shrugged.

  
“Nowhere, just at Heywards,” JJ said cooly. They we’re definitely up to something, Stevie thought, and it was definitely JJ who went through her stuff.

  
“Yeah, helping my Dad,” Pope added, though he looked a little shaken up, with a black eye and scabbed cheek.

  
“Pope, what happened to your face?!” Kiara sounded like a concerned mother. Looking around, it was clear that she was the mom friend, and these boys definitely needed one.

  
“Nothing! I tripped,” Pope said while swatting Kiara’s hand away from his face.

  
“Whatever, let’s just get this show on the road,” Kiara said with a huff as she walked out of the Chateau.

  
“Aye, aye, captain!” JJ sang with a salute. When he caught a glance at Stevie, he paused, looked her up and down.

  
“You cleaned up good,” he noted matter of factly.

  
“Showered in bleach,” Stevie shrugged, “as per John B’s request.”

  
“Come on guys, we’re setting sail at 13:00 hours!” Kiara called from outside. “That does have a nice ring to it,” she said to John B with a smile. JJ, Pope, and Stevie followed them out to the van, anxious, but excited, to see what the deep sea had in store for them.

  
“I’m a bit nervous, are you guys nervous?” Pope asked from the backseat.

  
There was a chorus of agreement from everyone except JJ.

  
“Nah,” he said with his usual swagger, “I’m not nervous.”

  
“Come on,” he exclaimed when everyone just stared at him, “We got this shit guys, balls to the wall!”

  
“Now _that_ is a proper use of the phrase,” Pope smiled.

  
“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Stevie laughed, shaking her head at the most ridiculous yet enjoyable group of kids she had encountered in awhile.

  
“It means going full throttle, _baby_!” JJ cheered, holding Stevie's gaze. Even the engine laughed as John B set the car in gear, turning on some alt-rock Stevie had never heard of, but she nodded her head to the beat anyway. As they drove to the marina, Stevie couldn’t help but imagine the Royal Merchant rising fossil-like from the seafloor, brought back from oblivion by a hopeless girl on a drug smuggling boat, and a motley crew of pogues that might actually become her friends.


	3. A Modest Gun Show

Out on Stevie’s fishing boat, the seas and the sky took an unexpected turn. They had found the Royal Merchant, and she really did look like a fossil, but her decomposing hull revealed no treasures. Not even a shimmer of gold, which until a few minutes ago, Stevie didn’t even know they were looking for. She thought finding the ship was treasure enough, but still helped Pope and Kiara scan the wreck for any sign of loot. For anything besides wood, barnacles, and boundless seafloor, but it was useless. 

“You really thought it would still be here?” Stevie asked, a bit oblivious to the rising tension on the boat, “It’s been 200 years—”

“Yeah,  _ we get it _ ,” Kiara said pointedly. 

“We can do a third round, see if we missed anything,” Pope suggested with his last ounce of hope. 

“Just pull up the drone,” John B said, holding his hands to his head in exasperation. 

“But we could at least try, the gold could be buried!” Kiara exclaimed. 

“There’s nothing down there, it’s pointless!” JJ called from the steering wheel. He was more than pissed, he was disappointed. How naive could they be, thinking they could really find sunken gold? Stevie just didn’t get it. She didn’t get how much this mattered to John B. 

“Just give it up!” John B shouted, “It’s over.” 

He pulled up his hoodie and turned away from his friends to look over the water. Somehow, Stevie felt like this was all her fault. She looked back at JJ and he just clenched his jaw, shaking his head.  _ What would she do know? _ Stevie and JJ both thought. 

“I know it’s not gold,” Stevie said, trying to lighten the mood, “but this is still a fishing boat. We could throw a few nets, get a few bucks, I know I need it.” 

Pope and Kiara looked at each other and shrugged. 

“Does your Dad still buy wholesale down at Heyward’s?” Stevie asked Pope.

“Sometimes,” Pope replied, sounding intrigued. 

“Great,” Stevie smiled, “Kiara?” 

“I hate to see innocent animals killed,” Kiara sighed, then added, “but might as well. How ‘bout that Captain?”

“Whatever,” John B said without turning around. 

_ Whatever indeed,  _ Stevie thought. She just wanted to make it up to these guys, and maybe get enough cash to get her life together. 

Stevie climbed up to the cabin where JJ stood in his backwards hat. He looked defeated but gave her a small smile anyway. Something about her made him intimidated, and a little bit excited.

“You down, JJ?” Stevie asked as she danced around him to get to the console.

“Yeah, why the hell not,” he replied. She toggled with some buttons until music started blasting through the boat. It was  _ Magic Carpet Ride  _ by Steppenwolf.  _ She’s got to be kidding.  _ But before JJ could comment, Stevie danced away, emerging a minute later from the hull with a case of PBR’s. 

“I always keep a backup,” she grinned as she tossed JJ a beer. 

“You’re something else Stevie,” he said as he caught it. 

“Who wants beer!” Stevie screamed to the deck. 

“Oh hell yes,” Kiara practically screamed as she and Pope came running. John B came after, drooping a bit. 

“Nothing like chasing bitter disappointment with a smooth, cold beer,” JJ joked. 

“To the Royal Merchant!” Stevie toasted, and the Pogues clinked their cans, relenting to defeat and laughter. 

“That janky son of a bitch!” JJ added.

“Worthless piece of shit,” John B agreed, with a hint of a smile in his voice. 

“Cheers Pogues!” Kiara shouted to the boys, and Stevie too, who was a pogue whether they liked it or not. Which, as they set off fishing and chugging beers, everyone felt like they did. 

* * *

“I bet we could make a couple hundo off this catch,” JJ told Stevie as they pulled up to Heyward’s.

“Yeah, a whole .01% of the 400 mil,” John B added, still in low spirits. It was going to take more than a few fish for him to get over this one. 

“More like .00001%,” Pope corrected.

“Hey Mr. Heyward!” Kiara called as they pulled up to the dock, “We got a surprise for you!” 

“Hello sir,” JJ and John B both said as seriously as they could. 

“What’s going on here Pope?” Mr. Heyward called from the dock, “Who’s boat is this?”

“It’s Stevies, she’s—”

“Nice to meet you sir,” Stevie interrupted with an unprecedented southern twang. She jumped on to the boat’s ledge just to shake Mr. Heyward’s hand. 

“I’m Stevie Cox.” 

“Hi Stevie,” said Mr. Heyward, who had no idea why this grinning waif was talking to him. 

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” 

“Well I only come up here in the summer with my daddy. You know, cuz the fishing’s so good,” Stevie was really putting on a show, talking like she was some salty Georgia peach. 

“I swear I’ve seen this boat around before,” Heyward pondered. 

_ Curse this tiny excuse for an island,  _ Stevie thought. 

“Oh you’ve probably seen us around, you know my daddy, Jack Cox?”

“Can’t say that I do,” Heyward replied. 

“ _ Daddy,”  _ JJ repeated with the same southern drawl, and John B had to cough to suppress his laughter. 

“She was wondering if she could sell you her catch,” Pope stepped in, “looks like we’ve got some marlins and… tuna.”

“Well, deliveries have been bad since the hurricane so, I can’t say no,” Mr. Heyward said, then added skeptically, “Why do you kids always look like you’re are up to something.” 

“Well I’m just excited cuz it’s my first big catch of the summer,” Stevie explained, “And I’m just so glad your Pope offered to help me, you have  _ such  _ a nice son!”

“Hm,” Heyward huffed, “Did these kids put you up to something? Are they bothering you?” 

“Oh no sir,” Stevie gasped, “why, they’ve gotta be the finest folks I’ve met this side of the Mason Dixon!” 

Kiara gasped with laughter, but quickly swallowed it with a smile. Mr. Heyward narrowed his eyes at her and the rest of the Pogues before saying to his son, “Well, help me load up these fish then.” 

_ “Stevie Cox,” _ JJ whispered to Stevie, while they unloaded the catch, “The look on Heyward’s face was worth more than the fucking gold.”

“Is that even your real name?” asked Pope. 

“Nah, it’s Stevie Nelson,” JJ answered for her, “unfortunately.” 

“Yeah, what was that accent dude?” John B laughed.

“Whatevah do you mean, John B?” Stevie cooed with melodrama, “I’m just a sweet southern belle trying to make her way on the open sea!” 

“It’s cuz you know Heyward, isn’t it?” Kiara observed. 

“Yeah,” Stevie sighed, putting her southern alter ego to rest. 

“Well my Mom did, back when she was still fishing. I wouldn’t want him to put two and two together though, since my parents don’t know where I am.” 

“But why?” Kiara questioned further. JJ looked nervously at Stevie, but she didn’t seem bothered. 

“Because I’m a bad girl on the run, obviously,” Stevie joked. 

JJ shook his head and laughed, like he often found himself doing when he was around her. There was no point in asking questions because she wasn’t going to give up her secrets that easily. JJ was the same way, and they seemed to understand that about each other. Just with a look, they knew they were running away from their demons at the same perilous speed. 

“Alright guys let’s split it up,” Stevie said as she began counting the wad of bills in her hands. 

JJ stepped towards her to look at the money, but Kiara gave him a pointed look. 

“No, we’re not splitting it,” Kiara explained, “Right guys?”

“Yeah that’s all yours Stevie,” John B agreed. 

JJ looked at his friends like  _ come on _ , and Pope just shook his head as if to say,  _ shut up asshole.  _ Before Stevie could protest, Pope just held up his hand and said, “Nope, not gonna hear it.”

Stevie nodded, and tucked the $150 in her pocket. 

Back at the marina, the pogues said goodbye and headed back to their normal lives, which for Stevie didn’t amount to much.  _ Maybe I can go the Boneyard and crash some keg party _ , she thought. But as everyone was heading off in different directions, JJ came over to her with a proposition. 

“So, you wanna shoot a gun or what?” he asked with his hands in his pockets. 

“Hell yeah,” Stevie agreed, though from all the adventuring and excitement she had forgotten about their deal for a moment. JJ thought he owed her a lesson before sending her out to do god knows what with his gun. Also, part of him liked having her around. 

  
  


* * *

JJ watched as John B stormed back into the Chateau, probably to lock himself in his dad’s study and wallow in self-pity, which was okay given the circumstances, JJ thought. He didn’t really know what else to do besides give him space, and in the meantime, use the overgrowing yard as a shooting range. 

“He really wants that gold, huh?” asked Stevie as JJ set up their target practice— a teddy bear on a tree stump. 

“Yeah, he’s obsessed,” JJ explained, “It’s more than a treasure hunt for him though, it’s like his life.”

“Don’t you think it’s kind of a lot for some kids to get involved in?” Stevie pondered, practicing her shooting stance with finger-guns. She closed one eye and aimed at JJ,  _ pew pew.  _

“It’s totally batshit,” JJ explained, “but it’s because of his dad. He started this whole treasure hunt before he… well... ”

“Disappeared?” Stevie finished. 

“Yeah, that,” JJ said as he loaded up the gun and got into position, “but anyway, when it comes to guns, safety first,” JJ instructed with a serious tone. 

“And by that, I mean, turn it off,” he added with a mischievous smile. JJ clicked off the safety while Stevie watched with her arms crossed, not the least bit impressed. 

“Just hold it firmly, like this,” JJ continued, feeling pretty cocky, “then keep your center strong or whatever, then just point, and—” 

The gun went off and Stevie covered her ears. She looked more worried than intrigued, JJ thought. The bullet blew through the teddy bear sending bits of stuffing into the air. 

“It’s pretty self explanatory,” Stevie observed, knocking JJ’s ego down a bit. 

“For some people,” he looked at her with an air of sarcasm, “but, I’m what some would call a pro.” 

“So you think cuz I’m a girl—”

“No, no!” JJ corrected himself, “I just think you could benefit from watching—  _ the smoke show _ ,” he grinned at her and shot a few more bullets straight through the teddy bear’s chest. 

“Alright, alright I get it,” Stevie shouted over the gunshots, “now hand it over.” 

JJ flipped the gun around and offered it to Stevie with a bow. 

“Show me how it’s done, m’lady.” 

She just rolled her eyes and set up her aim. JJ watched her silently as she tightened up, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. Stevie recoiled a bit at the sound and the sensation it sent through her body. It was a complete miss. 

“Alright, it’s just the first try,” JJ instructed, “Gimme a little attitude this time.” 

She flipped him off, then set up again. This time, her eyes dark with focus, she exhaled as she shot. Stevie missed twice, then made the third, knocking the teddy bear off its post. 

“Fuck yeah, Steve-o!” JJ clapped, feeling a bit proud, even though he might have been assisting a murder attempt. 

“ _ Never _ call me that,” Stevie joked. 

“Now in all seriousness.” Suddenly, her smile faded and she turned to point the gun at JJ. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” JJ jumped back with his arms up, startled. 

“I know you went through my stuff,” Stevie’s tone dropped, her expression hardened. “What were you looking for?”

“Jesus, fuck,” JJ practically shouted, he’d never seen Stevie look like this, “Put the gun down!” 

She remained silent, glaring, then after a moment her eyes softened. Stevie lowered the gun and then her gaze, already regretting her volatility. 

“Sorry I—” she stuttered, “I just don’t like being messed with.”

“Neither do I,” JJ sighed as he stepped closer, “Just don’t point a gun at me dude.”

“But why were you going through my stuff?” Stevie asked, looking at him this time. No wonder she pulled a gun on him, this girl definitely had trust issues, JJ thought. Her eyes shook a little bit, genuinely confused. JJ really did feel guilty. 

“I was just, uh, well—”

“Snooping?” Stevie finished. 

“Yeah, uh, and I was out of weed—”

“So you wanted to steal weed from me, that’s even better.” 

“No, no, I didn’t take anything, I knew it was wrong,” JJ looked and felt pretty distraught. Stevie noted how he kind of looked like a puppy when he was stressed. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, stepping right up to her so she knew he meant it,“I’m just— I’m just interested in you. Like, why do you want a gun? Who are you running from?”

“Well I want a gun because I need one,” Stevie sassed, a smile returning to her eyes, “but I’m not really on the run anymore, I just need to stay under the radar.”

“What, is the mafia coming after you or something?”

“The illuminati actually,” Stevie half-smiled as she handed the gun back to JJ. 

“What did you discover in my secret bag of mysteries, anyway?” 

“That you have weird taste in music,” JJ snarked, cocking the gun and shooting at a tree. 

“Julie Andrews? Are you kidding?!” 

“Are  _ you  _ kidding?” JJ exclaimed, “The Sound of Music sucks dick!”

“Exactly, it sucks my dick, it feels great, _ ”  _ then Stevie started singing like she was one of the weird Austrian kids from the movie. In a matter of seconds Stevie and JJ were cracking up with laughter over preteen level jokes about the Sound of Music. They were too busy fucking around to see Pope come running towards them, on the verge of a panic attack. 

“JJ!” He shouted. 

“Julie Andrews sucks DICK!” JJ screamed. At this point Stevie was on the ground and JJ was jumping around on garbage and tree stumps. 

“Oh, hey Pope,” JJ grinned when he finally noticed his friend. 

“What? What is wrong with you guys.” 

Stevie just shrugged and sang  _ the hills are alive!  _ Which sent JJ bursting into laughter. 

“JJ I need to talk to you! This is serious!” Pope waved for JJ to come over, and the two boys sat and had an intense chat on the dock while Stevie pretended not to watch. Pope was concerned about getting caught for sinking Topper’s boat, but JJ wasn’t bothered by the Kooks threats. He thought he could take them down if he had to. 

“So…” Pope said, after JJ finished up doling out his typically problematic advice, “Is Stevie, like, sticking around?” 

“I don’t know,” JJ wondered. They both looked back at her, she was intently watching the chickens and trying to get them to eat the grass in her hands. 

“I mean, she could right?” 

“I don’t know man,” Pope said, “We’ll need to have a pogue meeting on that.” 

“But she has nowhere else to go!” JJ explained judiciously, “And she’s chill, we can’t just leave her on the streets”

“Are you feeling some  _ moral obligations  _ right now JJ?” Pope laughed, “or are you just trying to mack on her.” 

“Shut up bro! I’m not trying to mack on her!” JJ insisted, “I just feel bad, don’t you?” 

“Yeah I do feel bad,” Pope agreed, knowing that JJ’s heart was in the right place, “and I do think she’s cool, and kind of cute but—”

“In a feral cat kind of way,” JJ finished. Stevie saw them staring at her and flipped them off. 

“If you're talking shit say it to my face, assholes!” She screamed at them from across the yard. 

“Yeah she’s definitely a Pogue,” Pope sighed. 

Stevie had earned another night at the Chateau, but she wasn’t sure how long it would last. For now, she could take the bed while JJ slept on the couch, at least until their deal was done. He knew what it was like to not want to go home, to feel more comfortable with strangers in strange places than with the people that were supposed to be close to you, supposed to care for you. But JJ didn’t know what his life would be like without friends, without the pogues having his back. JJ thought this might be the silver-lining to all his trauma— that the loss and the abuse helped him understand other people. And JJ might’ve been the closest anyone could get to understanding Stevie. 

  
  



	4. The Trial of Saint Stevie

The Cove was unspoken pogue territory, with a rugged, mediocre beach, but an incomparable surf that JJ hadn’t enjoyed since their treasure hunt started. The swells seemed particularly shreddable that morning, so Pope, JJ, and Kiara had no choice but to grab their boards and catch the waves, and Stevie had no choice but to follow. John B, still in a bit of a funk, went out on his boat first thing in the morning without saying a word to anyone. Maybe he needed alone time, but there was no therapy as effective as surfing, JJ thought.  _ Well maybe fighting and shooting guns, _ he added.  _ Oh, and weed, lots of weed.  _

As soon as they pulled up to the beach grass, Stevie jumped out of Kiara’s car and ran towards the water, hopping and flailing as she ripped off her overalls and threw them into the sand. 

“Yeah, thanks for the help!” JJ called after her, carrying the cooler of food she insisted on bringing. As Kiara and Pope put down their things, JJ grabbed his wallet out of his pocket and accidentally pulled a small silver wrapper out with it. 

“JJ, what is  _ that _ ?” Kiara said, looking at the square like it was a fiery portal into hell, which from some perspectives it kind of was. 

“What’s what?” JJ asked, confused. 

“Condom,” Pope pointed to the Trojan with his jaw dropped. 

“ _ Shit,”  _ JJ groaned, snatching it up and hiding it between the only two bills in his wallet. 

“I’m running away,” Kiara said as she really did run away with a look of disgust on her face. 

“You look disturbed,” Stevie called as Kiara ran towards her through the shallows. 

“Yeah, JJ just showed me a condom,” Kiara explained as she dove into a wave. 

_ A condom,  _ thought Stevie, treading water against the tide,  _ so he did find something interesting in my bag.  _

“Anything pertaining to JJ’s dick I want  _ no part of! _ ” Kiara shouted towards the beach, but the guys were too busy arguing, or something, to hear.

“Bro, what?” Pope said back on the shore. He didn’t even know where to start with his questions. 

“I thought you were still,  _ you know _ .” 

“I  _ am,”  _ JJ angrily whispered, looking out at the waves as if Stevie or Kiara could hear him. 

“It’s just a backup—” 

“A backup for what?” Pope challenged, “If you're ever at a party and someone else needs protection?” 

“Fuck you dude,” JJ said, embarrassed, “You never know!” 

“What do you mean you never know? It’s not like girls just pop out from behind trees like ‘Oh! JJ! Fuck me right now!” 

“But they  _ should _ ,” JJ grinned and Pope rolled his eyes. 

“Where did you even get that?” He asked. 

“Well, actually,” JJ tried to explain innocently, “I found it.”

“Uh-huh, sure, where?” Pope questioned further, clearly not buying it. 

“Well it just so happened to be in, uh, Stevie’s backpack.”

“Oh, okay so you  _ stole it _ ,” Pope huffed, “I’m not even surprised.” 

“Yeah, but let me repeat that again,” JJ said eagerly, “I found it in  _ Stevie’s  _ bag. A  _ bunch _ of them.” 

“Oh a whole  _ bunch _ ?!” Pope joked, “So Stevie’s getting laid,  _ not you _ . That makes more sense.” 

“But that’s the thing dude,” JJ said, stepping closer so he could whisper, “Who's she macking on?” 

“I don’t know! But I do know that it’s none of my business.” 

“But hear me out okay,” JJ continued whispering, “I just had this thought, like, since she was a drug dealer on the run, what if she, ya know, was selling some _ other stuff  _ too?” 

“What!” Pope shouted, but JJ hushed him, looking at the water to make sure Kiara and Stevie were still swimming out of earshot. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Pope asked, visibly disgusted. 

“You think if she’s a prostitute, you’ll have a chance with her? Good thing Kie walked away because that is  _ totally _ fucked.” 

“Pope, come on! You know I don’t mean it like that!” JJ pleaded, “I just wanted your opinion man, one idiot virgin to another.” 

“You are such an ass JJ,” Pope said, shaking his head as he started walking away, “She probably just gets laid dude, or she has a boyfriend, either way, she’s not gonna fuck you.” 

“That’s not what this is about man!” JJ called after him, grabbing his surfboard, “I’m waiting ‘til marriage I swear!” 

As they surfed and fooled around in the tides, JJ wondered what he really did mean by everything. Was this  _ interest _ as he described it, actually concern? Did he  _ care  _ about Stevie— in the way that thinking about her being a prostitute made him feel sick, like he wanted to punch someone. It was the same thing he felt for Kie, he thought, a sort of fraternal protective care. If Kie was a secret prostitute he would definitely freak out and lock her in the Chateau and break some necks. But then Pope would be like,  _ no dude, it’s her body and you locking her up is what’s actually oppressive _ , and damn JJ was thinking about the significance of this condom way too much. Maybe Stevie really did have a boyfriend or some sort of hook up. That too made him a little nauseous, but he rode waves and crashed into the white caps until all he could think of was the water in his lungs and the salt in his eyes. After an unquantifiable amount of time in the water, the pogues collapsed on the shore, feeling thoroughly salty and ravenous. 

“Someone toss me a sandwich  _ immediately _ ,” JJ begged as he collapsed on the towels. Kiara threw him his PBJ and lukewarm Dr. Pepper, which he guzzled even as it exploded in his face. 

“That bread better be moldy,” Pope joked, “Or else JJ won’t eat it.” 

“Fuck you dude that was  _ one time,”  _ JJ glared as he reached for the chips. 

“I’m pretty sure mold is good for you though,” Stevie said, nibbling on the bread crust which was oddly her favorite part. 

“ _ See _ ,” JJ said as he fist bumped Stevie, making her laugh. 

“No I’m pretty sure it’s not,” Kiara sassed lightly. 

“Hey, wanna know what my favorite sandwich is,” Pope said with a grin, “A PB and  _ JJ. _ ”

“Aw thanks dude,” JJ said, “You know I love being slathered with peanut butter.” 

The picnic banter continued with a lot of chip crunching and stupid jokes. Pretty soon the sun was fading and Stevie was ready for one last dip before calling it a day. JJ watched her half-run, half-skip to the shoreline in her utilitarian looking bikini. Kiara had braided Stevie’s hair into two long tails that flipped behind her shoulders as she looked back at JJ, as if she knew he had been watching. She smirked, and waved at him to follow as she waded up to her hips in the water. JJ sprinted right past her and belly flopped into the waves. 

“Idiot,” she joked, diving gracefully after him. 

“Maybe,” JJ conceded, “But I’m a good time aren’t I?”

“ _ Maybe,”  _ Stevie repeated, swimming out until the water came up to her chest. 

“Hey, I know you found my condoms,” she said matter-of-factly, looking out over the horizon instead of at him.  _ Shit _ , JJ thought,  _ at least she doesn’t have a gun to pull on me this time _ . 

“Kiara told me,” Stevie added. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, I just—” 

“It’s fine, I get it,” Stevie assured JJ, turning towards him now. He was looking at her with worry. Sure he was an ass, but he didn’t want to upset her again. 

“I’m not mad,” she said, reading his expression, “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.” 

“Well, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me either,” JJ explained, “I usually get my own but, I ran out.” 

“Sure,” Stevie smiled and rolled her eyes. 

“I just— I know I seem, well, like a lot of things,” she continued, “but I don’t want you guys to think I’m…” Stevie paused and looked out at the horizon again.

“ _ A slut _ ,” she added reluctantly. Stevie pursed her lips as if the word itself was bitter in her mouth. 

“What? I don’t think that...” JJ assured her immediately. Stevie looked at him now, either there was a smile behind her eyes or it was just the reflection of the setting sun. 

“Sure you’re a sketchy ex-drug dealer,” JJ continued, “but if you’re a slut I’m a slut.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Stevie laughed, splashing him. 

“Stevie you’re a  _ saint!” _ He screamed, splashing her even harder. 

“Guys come on!” Kiara called to them from the shore, “It’s getting late, I want to go to the movies!” 

“You heard her, get a move on Saint Stevie,” JJ joked as he ran through the waves back to the shore. 

“Good god,” she replied, exasperated. 

“Exactly!” JJ screamed. Stevie ran after him, struggling through the tides that just wanted to pull her back to sea. As she stepped on the shore, letting the warm air wrap around her instead of her arms, she felt a little more sure of herself, and a little more sure that JJ was a real friend. 

* * *

  
  


“I didn’t realize we were entering Kookville,” Stevie said to Kiara as they walked through the grass at some Figure-8 park. A flock of teen Kooks had gathered with wine coolers and beach chairs to watch whatever black-and-white movie they revered. It was kind of a cute set-up, Stevie thought, but she, Pope, and JJ were definitely out of place. In fact, Pope and JJ looked like they were walking into a war zone. 

“Come on guys, it’s  _ fine _ ,” Kiara sighed, looking at her concerned friends. 

“Yeah, fine to get our asses beat,” JJ said. 

“No one’s gonna beat you up JJ, this is a family event,” Kiara scolded him as they set up in front of the screen. Stevie looked around, tense, but relaxed when she saw no one she recognized.

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Pope said, shaking his head as he looked at JJ. There was definitely some serious business going on between them. 

“What is up with you guys?” Kiara exclaimed, “You’ve been acting so weird!” 

Pope and JJ just shrugged. 

“Whatever, I’m getting snacks,” Kiara said, “Come on Stevie!” 

“Okay!” Stevie replied, eager to follow. 

“Get me a soda!” JJ called after them. 

“ _ No!”  _ Kiara spat back, even though she would. 

“Do you know what’s going on with them?” Kiara asked Stevie as they stood in line. 

“No clue,” Stevie said, honestly, “Do they have hot dogs here?” 

“Were in Kookville now, we got everything,” Kiara grinned. 

“I’m just worried about them,” Kiara continued. 

“They are pretty worrisome,” Stevie agreed, “but whatever it is, I’m sure it’s stupid.”

“You can say that again,” Kiara laughed. 

Kiara got two Pepsis from the vendor, but before Stevie could get her long awaited hot dog, she saw a familiar figure from the corner of her eye— a lizard in a collared shirt. It was Rafe, coming towards them like a predator. Stevie avoiding confrontation, practically running back to their seats without looking at him or Kiara. 

“You look disturbed,” JJ noted as Stevie sat down, thoroughly spooked. 

“What’s wrong?” Pope asked, but Stevie just shook her head. 

“Guys, I just saw Rafe,” Kiara explained when she returned, “Why’d you run away?” She said to Stevie. 

“Did he see me?” Stevie asked, sounding quite suspicious. 

“I don’t think so— What is up with you guys?” Kiara exclaimed, exasperated, “Why are you all so sketchy?” 

Stevie said nothing, exchanging a look of guilt with the boys. 

“Well he told me,” Kiara continued, “and I quote, tell your boy that we know what he did.” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Pope muttered. 

“Where is he?” JJ asked. 

“Right there,” Kiara said, nodding behind her. Stevie curled her knees into her chest and stared straight ahead, hoping that the context and the braids would do enough to conceal her. 

“Great,” said Pope, “The whole death squad.”

“What did you guys do!” Kiara hissed, “Stevie are you a part of this?” 

“No! I don’t know what’s up with them,” she exclaimed, glancing at Pope and JJ who were thoroughly freaking out.

“My shit with Rafe is… well—”

“Deny everything dude!” JJ coached Pope, “Remember what I said.”

“And if he comes near us—” JJ gestured to his backpack. 

“Did you bring the gun?” Stevie whispered. 

“Please tell me you did not bring  _ a gun _ here, JJ!” Kiara exclaimed, “This is a family event!” 

_ Thank god,  _ Stevie thought,  _ we're gonna need it.  _ She exchanged a look with JJ that said just as much. What was his deal with Rafe? And what was hers, they both thought. But then the movie started and they all tried their best to ignore their pressing anxieties for the next two hours, which was damn near impossible watching a dialogue-heavy film in black-and-white. 

“Were gonna wring it out,” JJ whispered halfway through the movie. 

“Too much soda!” Pope said, and the two boys scrambled off behind the screen.

“Okay, can you please tell me what’s up with you and Rafe?” Kiara whispered aggressively. Stevie thought about it for a moment, and realized telling Kiara some of the truth wasn’t that bad of a thing. 

“So, you know how Rafe is like the biggest cokehead on Figure-8?” Stevie explained. 

“Well for a teen," she continued tangentially, "there’s some crazy old guys over there, though that’s not much of a surprise…”

“Yeah…” Kiara nodded, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Well I’m sort of the reason for that…” Stevie's voice trailed off as a gang of Vineyard Vines polos prowled behind the screen, right where JJ and Pope had disappeared. 

“Oh shit,” Kiara cursed, “They’re going after the boys!” 

“So much for family fun,” Stevie said as she grabbed JJ’s backpack, “let’s go save their asses.” 

Kiara and Stevie ran through the audience without abandon, but the Kooks already had JJ and Pope in headlocks by the time the girls arrived. 

“ _ Get off them!”  _ Kiara screamed, lunging for the mess of fists that was Topper and Pope. 

“Stop,  _ stop!”  _ Stevie called as JJ tried to break from Kelce’s hold, but Rafe was keeping him down with merciless punches. They couldn’t hear her over their adrenaline.  _ Of course Rafe needed someone to hold down  _ JJ, Stevie thought,  _ he can’t do anything himself _ . It was jarring seeing him now after months on her own, but there was no time to reflect on how it felt. There was no time to think about herself when Pope was being manhandled, and JJ pummeled in an unfair fight. 

“Rafe!” She screamed, so forceful it left her breathless. Everyone stopped then, even Topper who now had Kiara climbing on his back. Rafe and JJ looked at her with the same air of astonishment. 

“Stevie?” Rafe said as if he couldn’t believe it. He stepped away from the fight, but Kelce didn’t loosen his grip on JJ. It only took seconds for Rafe’s confusion to turn to anger. 

“I thought you were fucking dead,” he spat, “What are you doing here?” 

Stevie opened her mouth but she was speechless. It was all too much. 

“Don’t tell me you guys are hanging around with this slut?” He said to the pogues. 

“ _ Hey!”  _ JJ shouted, struggling against Kelce’s hold. 

“She’s our friend!” Kiara called, looking at Stevie with genuine concern in her eyes. 

_ Friends?  _ Stevie thought. She wished it was a better moment to smile. 

“What the fuck?” Rafe looked between the pogues and Stevie, then lunged towards her, grabbing her shoulders. 

“Do you have any idea what happened after you left?” He yelled, his face reddening. “ _ Do you! _ ”

Rafe shook Stevie by the shoulders, sending waves of painful memories through her body. It was all rushing back to her through Rafe’s hands, making her tremble. 

“ _ Stop _ !” JJ yelled as he broke free from Kelce, “Get your hands off her!” 

“Sure thing trailer trash,” Rafe hissed in JJ’s face, grabbing his shirt in his fists. 

“I bet you don’t even know who this bitch is.” 

“She and Barry were scamming the whole Outer Banks!” Rafe continued, much to Stevie’s horror. JJ tried to swing but Rafe and Kelce just overpowered him again. 

“Stop it!” Stevie shouted. 

“Barry would deal the drugs and she would fuck the clients,” Rafe said through his punches, “ _ right Stevie!”  _

“That’s not true!” Stevie screamed, her voice breaking, “Rafe can we just talk, please?” 

“If it’s not true then tell me you didn’t fuck him,” Rafe asked, turning away from JJ to look at her. Stevie felt something crash inside of her, like her whole body had become a void and her heart had fallen to pieces at her feet. JJ looked at her, confused and in pain. 

“Tell me you didn’t fuck Barry,” he repeated, pointedly. 

“I-I…” Stevie stammered, looking and Kiara, then at Pope. 

“I thought I meant something to you Stevie,” Rafe said with less anger now. He was closing the distance between them, looking at her almost how he used to.  _ Fucking asshole _ , she thought. 

“Please, just let them go,” she pleaded, “I’ll explain everything, I’ll make it right, just please—” she paused, stepping towards him like she meant it,  _ “let them go.” _

Rafe nodded and gave his boys the signal to stand down.

“Really dude?” Topper asked, annoyed. 

“You get the hell out of here too,” he said to Topper.

The pogues lingered, freed but speechless. JJ looked at Stevie like he didn’t want to leave her behind. 

_ Go _ , she signaled. He nodded, pulling Kiara and Pope with him. It looked like she had a plan. 

“Alright Rafe you fucking Country Club cunt,” Stevie amped up her monologue, grabbing Rafe by the shoulders just like he did to her.

“I’m gonna say this once and then I’m  _ never  _ going to say it again,” Stevie fumed, “Barry used me. He used you.  _ He  _ fucked  _ me _ because he owned me. I got nothing,  _ nothing _ , besides completely fucked by him, and by you. Call me a leech or a slut or  _ whatever _ , but you’re the only one who’s still Barry’s little bitch.” 

Rafe’s expression hardened, stone-thick as his goddamn skull. Then Stevie tightened her grip and rammed her knee into his dick as hard as she could. 

“Hole in one asshole!” She screamed as he crumpled to his knees. Suddenly, her body returned to her and she was sprinting through the audience and back to Kiara’s car. She felt like sobbing or flying or maybe both simultaneously. In any case, she knew what she had to do— revenge. 

* * *

“Holy shit!” Stevie laughed as she jumped into Kie’s car. The pogues had been waiting for her, like real friends would.

“Stevie...” JJ said with relief, one hand cradling his throbbing face. 

“What the hell happened!” Pope exclaimed, holding a water bottle to his eye. 

“I kneed him in the balls,” Stevie exhaled and buckled her seat belt. 

“Savage,” JJ laughed, giving her a fist bump. 

“Are you okay?” Kiara asked from the front seat. 

“Are  _ you  _ okay,” Stevie asked, looking between the pogues. 

“Not bad,” JJ smirked. 

“We’ve been better,” Pope said, exasperated. 

“We’ll be better once we get out of here,” Stevie noted. Kiara drove towards the Cut, and the silence between them seemed to throb like their bruises. 

“So the boys sank Topper’s boat,” Kiara finally said, out of the blue. 

“Now will you please tell us what the  _ fuck  _ is up with you, Stevie?” 

There was a pause. Pope and JJ remained silent, as if in agreement. 

“I need to finish the deal,” she looked to JJ, pushing off the question. 

“What?” He looked back at her, holding her gaze with worry. 

“Right now?” Kiara gasped.

“Please,” she implored, “I’ll explain everything later, I just need you guys to drop me off.” 

“Why did Rafe say all that shit about you?” JJ muttered, he looked gloomy in the darkness of the car. 

“Because he was jealous,” Stevie relented, “and without me, there was no one to protect him from Barry.” 

“So you and Barry were like… a thing?” Kiara questioned further. 

“Or you and Rafe?” Pope added. 

“It’s complicated...” Stevie sighed, looking away from JJ and out the window. It was easier this way, she could look at the passing forest and pretend no one else was there. 

“I owed everything to Barry,” she began, “he took me in when I had nobody else, we weren’t…  _ ya know…”  _ Stevie trailed off, too scared to look at their faces.

“Then I met Rafe and got him dealing too, and yeah things happened between us, but things went south…”

“That’s why I need to go and figure this out, right now—”

“No, we’re not letting you go fight some drug lord!” Pope pointed out. 

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, “were not.” 

“Please,” Stevie begged, finally looking at JJ. 

“Just drop me off here, and—and I’ll leave you guys alone,” she stammered, “I won’t burden you guys anymore.” 

Kiara and Pope exchanged a look. 

“You know I meant what I said earlier, Stevie.” Kiara looked at her in the rearview mirror, “You’re a pogue, and pogues stick up for each other.” 

“Right,” Pope agreed. 

“Yeah Stevie,” JJ added, “just tell me what the plan is and we’ll handle—” 

“No,” Stevie interrupted, “Thank you guys, but no. I need to do this alone.” 

“Cut the bullshit!” JJ glared at her, raising his voice, “Just let me help you!” 

“Stop the car Kie!” Stevie shouted, “ _ Stop!” _

“Jesus,” Kiara huffed, pulling over on the side of an empty road. Stevie grabbed the backpack and opened the car door. 

“Stevie, please,” JJ reached for her hand. She flinched at his touch, it was protective, gentle, but she pulled her hand away. 

“Thank you guys,” her voice strained in the darkness, “For everything.” 

“Come on dude,” Pope pleaded with her one last time. 

“ _ Don’t follow me _ .” 

The car door slammed. Stevie ran down the road, and the pogues watched until her shadow faded from the glow of the streetlight and disappeared into the humid dark. JJ felt the same unsettling darkness within him, sending a rush of adrenaline through his body.  _ Whatever she’s up to, she can’t do it alone,  _ he thought. 

“Alright Kie, step on it!” JJ said, leaning forward on the front seats with a daring look in his eye. 

“I’m following her.” 

  
  
  
  
  



	5. Bonnie and Clyde, almost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: drug/violence/and reference to sexual assault

The last time Stevie was running down this street, she was leaving Barry for good. She was woozy, hopeless, wearing the black slip-dress he forced her into sometimes. It was for “special occasions,” lucrative deals in a Figure Eight mansions, where Stevie would deliver and end up partying with some middle-aged men. She didn’t hate it though— she felt powerful with all those Kook Dad’s at her feet, letting her into their opulent smoking rooms, drinking Scotch and doing lines. It was borderline exploitation, but passable, until that final night. The night that haunted her still, the reason she quit working for Barry in the first place. It was after she made a bad investment with Rafe, one that he couldn’t pay back. Barry was livid, but he pulled out that old black dress and promised to forgive her if Stevie did what she was told. He had set up a deal that would make everything right— Barry would get his money, and Stevie would get out of the dog house. But it was going to be more than a “special occasion.”

Stevie remembered that night as she ran in unsettling detail. A tan, greasy man was watching Stevie look down at her dry, tan drink. She felt the room peel away and the man's face come closer, orbiting her like a sleazy planet. There were four others just like him, watching her, measuring her. Stevie swirled her glass and went to the bathroom. The whole world shifted around her, like she had fallen into another dimension. She rounded the corner, slammed the door shut, but didn’t go inside. Stevie waited, eavesdropping in the hall. 

_ “She’s not really 20, you guys know that right?”  _

_ “Obviously, why else would we pay as much as we did?” _

_ “Do you think it’s really worth it…?” _

_ “Just wait until the drink hits— someone should probably check on her, I think she’s getting close…”  _

So she wasn’t in another dimension, she had been drugged. And these guys were going to do god knows what to her if she stayed any longer. Stevie remembered the horror as she escaped from the house, forcing herself to throw up in the street. Then she wiped her face and took off running, and she hadn’t slowed down since. She just kept on running from everything— her parents, Barry, Rafe, the pogues. And now she was running back to his house with a gun in her hand. She was breathless, anxious, but Stevie wasn’t going to stop until she got what she deserved. 

* * *

The road was overgrown, empty, lit only by the beams of JJ’s dirt bike and the distant glow of a bonfire. He didn’t know what Stevie was getting into but he knew she was in trouble, and that was enough to send him speeding into the night with nothing but bruises and some basic instincts. The bright afternoon on the beach felt a world away and so did Stevie. Rafe didn’t seem like her type, JJ thought, but maybe he was right— JJ didn’t really know her, or all the bad shit that she’d done. But despite everything, JJ was still driving straight into the lion’s den without the faintest glimpse of a plan. Even if Stevie wasn’t a good person, she was a damn good pogue, and at this point, JJ felt like he could call her a friend. 

JJ leapt off his bike and ran into Barry’s yard, hidden in the shadows. Stevie was already there, standing in front of the bonfire with her back to JJ. He watched from the bushes as Barry stood and flicked out his cigarette. He looked Stevie up and down, amused and unfazed. 

“I knew you’d come crawling back,” he finally said in his usual drawl. 

“How long’s that?” he fake pondered, “A few months? I’m kinda impressed...” Though he eyed Stevie like he wasn’t, like she was some sort of pet. The way Barry looked at her made JJ sick. He bit his lip, bouncing on his feet as he waited for the right moment to intervene. 

“I’m not coming back, Barry,” Stevie said defiantly, “we need to talk.” 

“Bull- _ shit,  _ Fleetwood Mac,” Barry challenged her, “Who ya even with now?” 

“No one— I dunno, friends,” she stammered, “I’m not dealing anymore.” 

“Well that’s a real shame,” Barry continued, “I’d appreciate that boat ah yours right now.” 

“Fuck you, dude,” Stevie hissed, “I’m not doing _shit_ for you anymore! Or ever again!” 

Barry just shook his head and laughed, despite Stevie’s serious tone. 

“Oh, Stevie’s got her claws out tonight!” Barry joked, before turning to pick up his beer, “alright baby, why don’t you just take a seat—” 

“This isn’t a joke.” Stevie stood strong as she pulled out the gun, clicking off the safety, just like JJ had taught her. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Barry gulped his beer in shock and backed away.

“You got a gun Stevie?” His eyes were wide, but not fearful. 

“Yeah wipe that smug look off your face and listen up—” Stevie sassed, stepping closer. 

“You owe me Barry, big time.” 

_ Yeah you fucking do, _ JJ thought, cheering Stevie on from the side-line. Maybe he wouldn’t have to step in at all, he thought. Stevie seemed like she could handle herself. 

“Are you shitting me?” Barry threw his beer down. 

“No, I’m not shitting you!” Stevie spat back. JJ couldn’t see, but he was pretty sure she was cocking the gun in one hand, putting some attitude into it.

“Are you forgetting how much I did for your dumbass? And I got nothing,  _ nothing!” _ Stevie’s voice wavered between anger and heartbreak. 

“And then you pawned me off, for what? 5 thousand?  _ You owe me, _ ” Stevie threatened. 

_ Pawned her off?  _ JJ thought.

But Barry wasn’t intimidated by her demands. Instead, he stepped closer. 

“I owe you?” He laughed bitterly.

“Who took you in?” He continued, glaring down at her, “Who bought you a phone, new clothes, who protected you?” 

“Me, Stevie!  _ Me! _ ” He exclaimed like he was some kind of saint. 

“And then you went behind my back with Country Club and got us in debt.  _ You  _ started all this. It’s your fault that shit even happened!”

“It’s my fault?” Stevie almost screamed, so overrun with emotion that she lowered the gun. JJ could feel the tension boiling and took back his previous hopes—  _ This isn’t gonna end well _ , he thought. 

“It’s  _ my fault  _ you sold me to some Kooks?” Stevie continued, voice shaking, “Did you know what they were going to do to me?” 

Now JJ was starting to put it all together— pawning her off, Rafe calling her a slut, Stevie running off in the first place.  _ Did Barry pimp her out, in the worst possible way? _ JJ’s blood was boiling. No wonder Stevie was losing her shit. 

“I had no other choice!” Barry screamed, exasperated. 

“How could you?” Stevie asked, her voice faltering. 

“Shut the fuck up—” Barry rolled his eyes, dismissing her. 

“No, you shut the fuck up!” Stevie screamed, straightening up again. 

“I have the gun here! Now you give me the money or I swear to god Barry I’ll—”

“You’ll what,” Barry challenged, stepping right up to the gun, “you’ll what?” 

“I’ll fucking—”

Before Stevie could finish, Barry slapped her in the face, sending a wave of shock through her body so abrupt it didn’t even hurt. The same shock and rage coursed through JJ as he emerged from the shadows, ready to fight. 

_ “Get the hell off of her!”  _

The surprise got Barry more than anything, both he and Stevie stopped wrestling over the gun to see JJ bolting towards them. 

“ _ JJ?!”  _

“Who the fuck—?” 

Stevie fell back as JJ pounced on Barry, punching him and bringing him to his knees. 

“ _ Fucking… asshole!”  _ JJ spat between hits. 

The gun went flying and Stevie scrambled after it. JJ didn’t know what to do now with Barry struggling beneath him, groaning and muttering curses. Part of Stevie was pissed, but mostly, she was grateful that someone had her back. 

“ _ Come on JJ!”  _ She screamed as she pocketed the gun, he looked up at her, the bonfire illuminating his face. 

“ _ Let’s go!”  _

“There’s more where that came from, Barry,” JJ whispered, finally letting the older man go to run back into the darkness. 

“ _ Stevie you bitch!”  _ Barry screamed after them as the two pogues ran to the street, adrenaline rushing through them again.

“Hold on,” JJ ordered, hopping onto his bike and motioning for Stevie to follow. They sped off towards the Chateau with Stevie clinging to JJ’s back, more out of comfort than safety. JJ was at a loss for words, the wind and the engine filling his head with noise— overwhelming static and the echo of Barry’s voice. It all amounted to a sick rage in the pit of JJ’s stomach. It was worse than he imagined— Stevie had been through hell and back, just like him. Except she didn’t have any friends to watch out for her, to hold on to, until now. As they rode, she held JJ tight with her check against his back. He was pretty sure she was crying, stifling her sobs into his t-shirt. 

When they pulled into the Chateau, she finally let go, reluctantly. It was JJ who broke the silence first. 

“I’ll stay here with you, if that’s okay,” he said, walking towards the house. 

“Okay,” she replied, her voice hollow, depleted. 

“Thank you,” she added, “For following me.” 

“Well someone had to,” he smiled, “You’re a loose canon, Stevie.” 

She just laughed and wiped her nose. 

“And that gun show?” he continued as they barged inside, “Whoever taught you those moves must be hot shit.” 

“More like a hot mess,” Stevie joked right back. They stood facing each other in the living room, JJ with his broken lip and Stevie with her watery eyes. Everything was exactly how they left it that morning, but there was no sign of John B. 

“Hey speak for yourself,” JJ smirked. The pit in his stomach filled up a little bit looking down at her. Stevie’s braids were falling apart and her eyes were red from crying, but she smiled up at him regardless. 

“What was your plan anyway,” JJ asked, “kill him for cash?” 

“I don’t know—it was stupid,” Stevie shrugged, “I was kind of winging it.” 

“Yeah, I noticed.” JJ exhaled, running his hand through his hair.

“But now we're gonna Kill Bill his ass,” he added with enthusiasm, “We’ll get you your revenge for sure.” 

Stevie nodded, looking down at the floor and then towards the bedroom. 

“You’d really do that?” She asked. 

“Yeah well, I already beat his ass so like, were half-way there,” JJ continued, “but we’ll go full Tarantino on him next time.” 

Stevie kept nodding and looking down. She appreciated his care, but she felt like a complete wreck. 

“Hey,” he said, reaching for her shoulder, “What Barry did was awful, Stevie. He’s gonna get what he deserves.” 

Stevie finally looked up to see the empathy in JJ’ eyes. He felt overwhelmed looking at her like that, so close. He was angry and relieved and somehow, warm, in the pit of his stomach. It spread through him to the tips of his fingers, where they held her shoulder tightly. 

“That means a lot, JJ,” she finally said, “and for the record, I got out of there before anything really bad happened, I knew I was getting drugged.” 

“Thank god," JJ sighed with relief, "damn, you're a badass."

“But still, that’s severely fucked up, and, uh… you can talk to me about it or whatever, whenever you want.” 

He was looking at Stevie with those puppy dog eyes again, but Stevie muttered thanks and looked down at her feet. 

“I—uh, I’m gonna pass out,” she added, wrapping up their small heart-to-heart. 

“Yeah— yeah, me too,” JJ stammered. 

Stevie nodded and smiled one last time before disappearing into the room. JJ sighed, pulling out the couch and immediately collapsed in all of his clothes.  _ Just wait until Pope and Kie hear about this _ , he thought. He rolled over, face and hands slightly throbbing from the violence of the day. Before he could fall asleep, he heard the door creak open, footsteps approaching, then saw Stevie’s shadow awkwardly above him. 

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she whispered back, crawling over him to get to the open half of the couch-bed. 

“Do you mind?” She asked, and JJ rolled over to face her, barely able to discern her features in the dark. 

“I just— can’t be alone right now,” she explained. 

“Oh, you tryna mack on me, Stev-o?” he joked. 

“Ugh, shut up JJ,” she sighed, rolling away from him. 

“Okay, sure, whatever,” JJ smiled, though she couldn’t see him. After a moment he moved closer, remembering how she held him on the dirt bike. He wrapped his arm around her, making her flinch. 

“Is that okay?” JJ whispered. Stevie smiled faintly, though he couldn’t see it. 

“Whatever,” she said indifferently, but took his hand in hers anyway and relaxed against his touch. Her hair smelled of smoke, and sweat, and JJ fell asleep in it thoughtlessly, with Stevie tucked in his arms. 

* * *

The next morning came pounding, quite literally, on the Chateau door. JJ awoke to the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, followed by two gruff voices. 

“Shit!” JJ shook Stevie who was still asleep in his arms, “Rise and shine!” 

“What—” she grumbled as JJ leapt off the couch bed. 

_ “Cops!” _ he whispered, “We gotta go!” 

Stevie scrambled after JJ and into Big John’s study just as a knock sounded on the door. 

_ “John B!” _ The voice shouted,  _ “This is the police!”  _

“Of course,” JJ remarked as they leapt out the study window. 

“What the hell did he do?” Stevie asked. They were on the run, yet again.  _ Can I catch a goddamn break?  _ Stevie thought. 

“I don’t know,” JJ shrugged as they jogged up the road, “probably something stupid but like, really cool— like this!” he shouted as he leapt onto Stevie’s back. 

“Get off me, you fat ass!” 

“Piggy-back ride!” JJ howled, probably not the best thing to do when evading the law. But there was no point, JJ fell off her immediately then bent in front of her like a goddamn lunatic—

“Giddy-up, buttercup!” He grinned, motioning her to hop on. 

“You  _ idiot _ .” Stevie laughed but jumped on JJ’s back anyway. 

“Count your blessings Fleetwood Mac, I’m carrying you all the way to Heyward’s!” 

“Sure you are! I know you can’t see me but I’m rolling my eyes, and flipping you off.” 

* * *

“Oh my god guys!” Kiara embraced JJ as the pair walked into Heyward’s. JJ did  _ not _ carry Stevie all the way there, unfortunately, despite his best efforts. 

“Are you okay?” She asked them both, giving Stevie a hug too. 

“Were fine,” Stevie sighed, “And I’m sorry for storming off, I was—” 

“Emotional,” Kiara finished for her. 

“Stupid,” JJ said at the same time, teasing her. 

“One in the same,” Pope added wisely. 

“I’m glad you’re okay man,” he said to JJ, going in for their hand shake. 

“And you too, Stevie.” 

She looked at Pope and smiled,  _ I guess they did really mean what they said last night _ , she thought. 

“Yeah thanks to _ me _ ,” JJ said with sarcastic bravado, “She tried to fight Barry without backup.”

“Yeah JJ, you're my  _ hero _ ,” Stevie rolled her eyes, sending the sarcasm right back at him. 

“You bitched out Rafe  _ and  _ took on Barry?” Pope exclaimed, coming out from behind the counter to talk to his friends despite the customers in the store. 

“Yeah, she’s an animal,” JJ joked and sounded impressed by her simultaneously. 

“But it didn’t go as planned,” he added. 

“Well, there was no plan,” Stevie corrected. 

“Hell no there wasn’t,” JJ grinned, giving Stevie a high-five. 

“Christ, you guys are like Bonnie and Clyde,” Kiara rolled her eyes, “except dumb.” 

“No dude,” JJ corrected, “she’s Uma Thurman and she’s gonna get her Kill Bill revenge.”

“Shut up,” Stevie and Kiara both said simultaneously. 

“Get this girl a blade!” JJ danced around the girls, pretending he had a sword to wield. 

“And I would be… I would be…” JJ pondered, knocking over some fruit, “Who would I be Pope?”

“You would never be in a Tarantino movie, JJ.” 

“Hey, come on man—”

“Look at yourself dude, you’re lame!” 

“No I’m not—”

“Hey, hey, shut up!” Kiara ordered, “Where the hell is John B?”

JJ stopped bickering and gave Stevie a concerned look. 

“We don’t know,” Stevie explained, “he didn’t come home yesterday.” 

Kiara looked at Pope, she looked pale. 

“Yeah, the cops showed up this morning looking for him,” JJ added. 

“The cops? Not DCS?” Pope asked, looking between JJ and Stevie. 

“What the hell did John B do this time?” Kiara said to Stevie, in their own conversation. 

“You two slept in the Chateau?” Pope said quietly as he leaned closer to JJ. 

“Yeah-yeah, what about it?” JJ replied to Pope, practically whispering. 

“Oh, I’m picking up something—” Pope pretended he was scanning JJ with some invisible radar. 

“I’m picking up some  _ strong _ macking vibes from you JJ,” Pope joked, “Right here, in this area.”

“Nothing happened,” JJ hissed, glancing at the girls from the corner of his eye, “Shut up dude!” 

“Speaking of cops…” Kiara said, and everyone stopped to look at Officer Shoupe. 

“Ugh, give us a goddamn break!” Stevie sighed. 

“Good evening, Officer.” Pope greeted, wide-eyed. 

“What is all this about?” Mr. Heyward emerged from the back, looking between the cops and the kids with his usual air of worry. 

“I’ve get an arrest warrant for felony and destruction of property—”

“What?” Mr. Heyward glared at his son, then chaos broke loose. Kiara and JJ were yelling, Officer Shoupe read the Miranda Rights while tightening the handcuffs around Pope’s back. Stevie was speechless as they followed Pope outside, she was yelling too but she felt hollow, useless. Pope didn’t deserve this, none of them did. Why did it feel like they were constantly at war? And could she even call it a war if the Kooks always won?

_ “It wasn’t him!”  _ JJ called, “It was me.” 

Stevie watched catatonic as JJ drew out his fake confession. It was Pope who had sunk Topper’s boat, but if JJ was willing to fight for Stevie, he sure as hell was willing to go down for Pope. Though it was crazy, Stevie felt proud as she watched JJ sacrifice himself for his friend. The way his voice shook and eyes softened, it made Stevie want to wrap her arms around him again. 

As JJ got into the cop car he looked back one last time at his friends, and at Stevie. He smirked, as if to tell her it would all be okay. Stevie still felt catatonic, watching the cop car pull away. 

_ We're not gonna be okay _ , Stevie thought,  _ we never were in the first place.  _


	6. A Midsummer Scheme

Rock music blasted through the walls of JJ’s room, and his father’s insults ricocheted like bullets along with it. JJ couldn’t tell if it was the bass or his own rage shaking him to his core, his bones trembling under the pressure. He tried holding his ears and screaming, but nothing could drown out the noise. 

_ You worthless piece of shit! _

If this was freedom, he’d rather be in jail. He'd rather be in jail for the rest of his life than hear his Dad’s slurred voice one more time. 

_ You should’ve never been born! _

“Shut up! Shut up!” JJ bashed his fist against the wall over and over and over. Hot tears rolled down his face and he stood there heaving, and he stayed like that for hours it seemed, boiling over with his head in his hands. Sometimes, JJ's Dad said he looked like his mom. Light hair and gentle features that had hardened— worn down overtime by the punches of love. Though it wasn't love really, it was cruelty. Or was that what love really was? Did JJ still look like his Mom as he stood there, catatonic, beaten to submission with nowhere left to go? 

_ No,  _ JJ thought,  _ I don’t anymore _ . His Mom didn’t take the violence, she didn’t submit. She fought back and then she got up and left. Maybe she was loveless, but at least she was free. And that’s what JJ would do too. He wasn’t going to take it anymore. 

JJ stormed out of the room, aching from all sides and sweating through his shirt. The scene was pathetic— a table full of bottles, glass and ash on the floor, and the most pathetic thing of all, his Dad passed out on the couch. He was sprawled out limp as a dead body. Maybe he’d be better off that way.  _ Maybe he would be better off dead _ , JJ thought,  _ and I would be better without him.  _

Suddenly, the gun appeared in his hand. The safety was off. JJ felt like it was a part of him, like it could act on his impulse before he could think. It pointed down at his Dad, his red sunken face. It wanted to blow it off and put an end to the misery. It wanted JJ free. The gun shook, begging to go off. The trigger grew hot on JJ’s finger. It was so easy, too easy. 

But his thoughts were difficult, they stopped him in his homicidal tracks. His mom didn’t leave him with much besides the sound of her voice, vaguely calling his name, but he knew what she would say right now. She would tell him to drop the gun and breathe. JJ couldn’t disappoint her anymore, even if she was only in his imagination. Then he thought of Pope, his oldest friend, how he would lose his mind if JJ committed a crime like this. John B would beat him up before he could even do it, and Kiara, well, she would be heartbroken. He even thought of Stevie— the way she looked at him when he was arrested, like she truly cared. JJ wasn’t completely worthless. His friends saw good in him, they saw something to care for, even when no one else did. 

JJ lowered the gun, trembling, but he still felt out of control. He needed to get out. To run. But even more importantly, he needed to find John B. He looked back at his Dad one last time before bolting out the door, towards the Chateau. 

* * *

Stevie sat on Kiara’s bed, her eyes closed as something soft and plush brushed her eyelids. 

“Now, open,” Kiara instructed, analyzing her work, “just need to smudge it a bit—” Kiara muttered as she rubbed her thumbs over Stevie’s eyelids, blending the eyeshadow and making her chuckle. 

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Stevie said, resisting the urge to touch her freshly painted face. Kiara had cleaned her up for Midsummer’s, had taken out her braids and put her in a dress of deep green silk. It wasn't Stevie’s usual vagrant look, but she didn’t mind. It felt nice to look pretty, she thought, even if the circumstances were suboptimal. 

“Well, there’s no way I’m going to this Kookfest alone,” Kiara explained, handing Stevie a mirror, “and you look good, I promise. Like a real haute-bourgeoisie teen.” 

“The fuck does that mean, Karl Marx?” Stevie joked, looking at her reflection in the mirror. It was shocking, to say the least. 

“I haven’t worn makeup like this since the middle school musical,” she continued. 

“Oh my god,” Kiara gasped, “ _ Grease _ ? I completely blocked that out of my memory.” 

“We were both Pink Ladies I think,” Stevie bounced on the bed, “And Pope was a Greaser, you remember?” 

“Yeah, we were  _ awful _ ,” Kiara reminisced, “and JJ was Crater Face of  _ course. _ ”

“The casting was just,” Stevie paused to kiss her fingers like a chef, “ _impeccable_.” 

“And John B wasn’t in it because he broke his ankle or something,” Kiara added, shaking her head. It had been awhile since she thought about the young pogue life. 

“I wasn’t even friends with them back then,” Kiara noted with a hint of sadness, “It’s so weird.” 

“And then you disappeared from school completely,” she said to Stevie, “I almost forgot about you until we found you in the Impound Yard.”

Stevie laughed, because even that fateful day felt so far away. So much had happened in her brief time with the pogues that she already felt like they had a bond, like she had known them forever. 

“Yeah, well, I dropped out before high school,” Stevie explained, “I thought I had friends, but no one’s your friend when you’re 13.” 

“You can say that again,” Kiara agreed, “what happened?”

“Just stupid girl drama—” Stevie sighed, “this rumor spread that I hooked up with some boy, so of course everyone thought I was a slut…”

“Holy shit,” Kiara’s eyes widened, “I remember that!” 

“Yup,” Stevie nodded, “I was mortified, like, so embarrassed I refused to go back to school. So my mom and my stepdad homeschooled me—”

“No way—”

“Yup,” Stevie sighed, “it was a horrible idea.” 

“Yeah it really led you down a great path,” Kiara joked, “but I get it Stevie, my friends turned out to be bitches too.” 

“The boys?” Stevie asked, shocked. 

“No,” Kiara laughed, “Sarah Cameron, and some other girls at Kook school.” 

“Ah the Princess herself,” Stevie rolled her eyes, “what did they do to you?” 

“Same shit basically,” Kiara explained as she put on her heels, “they spread a rumor and then completely turned on me. It sucked, but then I found the boys.” 

“Good thing we're about to go spend a whole night with those snakes!” Stevie said sarcastically as she grabbed her shoes, which were actually Kiara’s. 

“And… Rafe.” The name curdled in Stevie’s mouth as she said it, but Kiara looked at her reassuringly. 

“We’ll avoid him okay?” Kiara gave a small smile for support, “we’ll dance around and eat hors d’oeuvres and kick him in the balls if we have to.” 

The two girls stood in front of the full length mirror, both feeling a bit ridiculous. 

“I’m down for that plan,” Stevie said, barely recognizing herself. 

“I feel bad though,” she continued, turning towards Kiara, “have you heard from JJ at all?”

“Not yet,” Kiara shook her head, “I’m sure he’s fine, he’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach.”

Stevie laughed, but her anxiety didn’t waver. 

“And what about John B?” She added. 

“He’s definitely in trouble,” Kiara looked worried.

“But we’ll figure it out  _ after _ we have champagne,” she said with the drawl of a fancy, mid-century actress.

“Oh honey,” Stevie joked with the same tone, “I’m gonna black out!”

“Please don’t,” Kiara laughed. 

“I might have to,” Stevie huffed, “I’m so nervous.” 

Suddenly, Kiara’s mom popped her head into the room, eager to see her daughter all dressed up, like a prim and proper Kook. 

“You girls look  _ stunning, _ ” she smiled as she took Kiara’s hands excitedly. 

“And it’s so nice of you to invite your new friend,” she added, then looked at Stevie, “you know Kie doesn’t have a lot of girlfriends—”

“Ugh, Mom stop!” Kiara interrupted, making Stevie laugh. 

The two girls exchanged a mischievous look— if only Kie’s Mom knew who Stevie really was, or what they were really up to this summer. Regardless, Mrs. Carrera was right, Kiara was glad to have a non-boy friend, and so was Stevie. But despite the promise of champagne and hors d’oeuvres, they were still nervous for the night ahead of them. At the rate things were going, there was no way it would end well. 

“Don’t have too much fun,” Kiara instructed as they walked into the country club, which for Stevie was like entering a mystic castle. One that belonged to a villain rather than a princess. 

“We're in the lion’s den now,” Kiara observed. 

“Don’t worry,” Stevie said somberly despite her glowing appearance.

“We couldn’t have fun even if we tried.” 

* * *

JJ had partially cooled off by the time he made it to the Chateau, but he escaped only to find himself hiding from law enforcement yet again. When John B appeared, JJ pounced on his friend before he could blow their cover. 

“Sh!” he hissed as John B tackled him.

“What the fuck man!” John B exclaimed. 

“Look,” JJ pointed to the cars parked around the Chateau, “ _ Cops.”  _

“Shit…” John B stopped manhandling JJ, then pulled him in for a hug. 

“What happened to you man?” He asked, looking at JJ’s bruised face and busted lip. 

“It’s not important,” JJ ignored the concern with a serious tone.

“The police are after you,” he explained, “they nearly broke down your door this morning, but Stevie and I dodged them.”

“So you and Stevie are moving in?” John B furrowed his brow. 

“A lot of shit went down man,” JJ tried to explain, “but where were you? What the hell happened?”

“DCS tried to abduct me,” John B said as he peered at the cars, trying to get a glimpse through the tinted windows.

“But I got us back in the G-game baby,” John B’s battered face livened with excitement.

“G-game as in gold game?” JJ stammered in shock.

“Like the Royal Merchant?” 

“I got a crazy lead and we gotta follow it,” John B said with his eyes wide. 

“Yeah it is  _ crazy _ , John B,” JJ glared at his friend, exasperated. 

“The thugs that tried to kill us got fucking  _ murdered,”  _ he continued.

“What?” John B’s manic glow suddenly darkened. 

“Yeah man,” JJ said with a hint of malice. 

“While you were out chasing fairy tales I got arrested, and Peterkin told me they’re after you. They think you’re involved.” 

“Well I’m not, so were fine—”

“Were not fine!” JJ practically screamed, boiling over again.

“This is dangerous John B! Were all on thin ice right now, and I have to pay restitution—”

“But I have a  _ plan _ , JJ!” John B interrupted. 

“Yeah well I do too,” JJ countered, stepping up to John B.

“And it’s not going to juvi,” he shook his head, “or losing my best friend.” 

John B sighed, then looked back at JJ reassuringly. 

“Just listen to me dude, I know where it is,” John B explained, looking sane again. JJ stared at John B, still reluctant. 

“ _ 400 million,”  _ John B grabbed his friend by the shoulders. 

“How much is your restitution?” 

The two boys exhaled, letting the reality of the situation sink in. The money was unfathomable, and John B did make a fair point. JJ thought about it for a moment, then nodded in agreement. No matter what happened, he’d probably be fucked, so what did he have to lose? 

“So what’s the plan John B?” 

“First,” John B raised his eyebrows, motioning for JJ to follow him into the marsh, “we crash Midsummer’s.” 

* * *

Kiara and Stevie managed to dance around the country club undetected by sticking close to the adults and the charcuterie board. Floating around anonymously and dressed in style, Stevie almost completely passed for a Kook. After snagging glasses of champagne and indulging Kie’s parents in intellectual conversation, the girls dashed off to find Pope. The night was going smoother than they imagined, but just when they were starting to let their guard down and have fun, Rafe slithered onto the scene. 

“Incoming,” Pope whispered, freezing like a deer in the headlights. Stevie glared as Rafe sauntered over, greasy and cross-faded. She knew he would spot her inevitably. 

“Hey guys,” he smiled, so friendly it was malicious.

“Mind if I steal Stevie for a minute?” 

He was acting too polite to be genuine and Stevie found it more unnerving than if he spat her face. 

“I got this,” Stevie said before Pope or Kiara could protest. Rafe placed his hand on the small of her back, but Stevie recoiled and pushed him away. 

“What do you want,” she hissed as he pulled her into a corner. 

“I want you to cut the pogue bullshit and start working again,” he demanded, matching Stevie’s tone. 

“And why would I do that, Rafe?” she challenged, staring straight into his slimy face. 

“Because you’re homeless, you’re broke, and…” he looked down at her, searching her gaze for some sign of acknowledgement, “you miss me.” 

Stevie was stone cold as she stared back at his glassy eyes. It was clear he was projecting his own longing on to her. 

“Great detective work, but only partially true,” she sassed, “you seem to be forgetting the part where I was roofied and auctioned off like a piece of meat.” 

“What?” Rafe stepped back out of surprise. 

“And then when I needed you, you turned your back on me?” she looked disgusted, “you called me a prostitute.”

“Stevie I—,” Rafe took a step back, stumbling a bit, “I didn’t realize— Barry told me that you, that you—”

“Of course he did,” Stevie huffed. She was finally putting everything together. The confusion on his drunken face was confirmation enough that Rafe had no clue what had really happened to Stevie that night. 

“He knew we were teaming up…” she looked off in the distance, having a Holme’s like revelation. 

“He knew we were undermining him so he turned us on each other.” 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Rafe nodded dumbly, then grabbed Stevie’s hands. 

“But now we know! We, we can work together” he stammered, “we can do it all without Barry, we’ll make even more—”

“No,  _ no _ ,” Stevie shook her head, pushing back against his delusions.

“Don’t you get it?” she went on, “I’m not an addict. I don’t  _ want _ to live like that anymore. I just want to be normal.” 

“Well it’s too late for that!” Rafe shouted loud enough to turn some heads.

“You’re fucked, Stevie,” he pointed down at her, “and I’m the only hope you got.” 

“Rafe,” Stevie softened a bit, taking him by the shoulders and looking him dead in the eyes. 

“It’s not too late for me. And it’s not too late for you either. You’re a  _ Kook _ . You can quit dealing and quit using and make something of yourself! You can be what your Dad wants you to be if you try, I swear.” 

Rafe just stared at her, mouth agape. It was the closest someone could come to encouraging him, or slapping him in the face without actually doing it. Stevie just sighed and grabbed his cocktail out of his hands.

“Now stop fucking drinking and forget you saw me. I have some smoked gouda to attend to.” 

Before Rafe could protest, Stevie stormed off, feeling better escaping him than she did the night before. Did he really not know the truth this whole time? Well it didn’t matter now, she thought as she downed his drink— a gin and tonic. It didn’t matter because he was a toxic idiot who she was better off avoiding for the rest of her life. Sure they had a thing, but she was right, it was severely over now. Stevie scanned the dance floor for Pope and Kiara but saw only a sea of sparkling elites, the pearls in the ugly mouth of these bleak islands. Stevie knew better than to go swimming in that. Instead she made a B-line to the bathroom, hoping to find some spare alcohol on the way. 

Suddenly, there was commotion at the end of the hallway— the sound of scrambling feet and shouting boys, then a frazzled blond bolted around the corner like he was running for his life. Stevie laughed with surprise. It was JJ, of course. Before either of them could think they ran into the ladies’ room with the Death Squad on their heels. 

Stevie pulled JJ into a stall just as the Kook boys stormed in.

“Hey, Maybank!” Topper shouted as he pounded on the door, “Open up!” 

“Excuse me?” Stevie replied with horror, “This is the women’s room! You can’t be in here!” 

“Oh, sorry Miss,” Topper’s apology was muffled by laughter, then the sound of retreating loafers. Stevie and JJ shared a sigh of relief, taking in each other's odd, but classy appearances. 

“You look...” JJ began to compliment—

“Your face!” Stevie cut him off, reaching up to examine his cheek and bruising eye. But JJ didn’t push her away, it’s not like he even could in the tight bathroom stall.

“It’s nothing,” he stammered as he looked down at her and the concern pooling in her eyes. It was an unfamiliar feeling, like he wanted to collapse into her. Then he found himself wrapping his arm around Stevie and pulling her into his chest. It wasn’t often either of them found comfort in someone else's arms, and though Stevie was surprised, she relaxed against him. 

“JJ,” she exhaled, her voice was muffled by his shoulder. She held him tight, rocking slightly in his embrace. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said as he pulled away, but it was hollow. He leaned back on the stall casually, trying to recover from their sentimental moment. 

“I’m better now that you saved me from those pricks.”

“But, prison?” Stevie stammered, “and your face?” 

“I have a $30,000 restitution,” JJ shrugged, “and my Dad’s not too happy about it.” 

“Oh fuck,” Stevie’s face dropped when she realized what it meant. 

“It’s not a big deal,” JJ tried to assure her, but it barely assured himself. He had to look away from the worry in her gaze. 

“What are you even doing here?” He continued, changing the subject. 

“I could ask you the same thing, Bow Tie,” she teased.

"I was on a secret mission," he smirked, "deliverying a message for John B."

"John B!" Stevie gasped, "you found him!" 

"Yeah, and boy does he have news for us." 

"Speaking of, we should get out of here," JJ instructed as he unlocked the door. 

“I think the coast is clear.” 

The two emerged from the stall to find an old lady washing her hands in the sink. 

“Good evening,” JJ grinned at her, and she recoiled, disgusted by the two of them, and hobbled out of the bathroom. Stevie couldn’t help but laugh.

“We look pretty badass don’t we?” JJ said to their Kooked out reflections in the mirror. 

“Like Bonnie and Clyde,” she agreed, "except I don't even know what they look like." 

“Now let’s go before we give another grandma a heart attack.”

The pair jogged through the country club, giggling, dancing, grabbing drinks and the hands of their friends. 

“Sorry Mom and Dad,” JJ said to the Carreras as he swooped Kie off of her feet.

“Come on, Pope!” He shouted across the dance floor, “Pogue meeting at Rixton’s Cove!” 

“Let’s blow this Kookfest!” Stevie added as Pope ripped off his apron to join his friends. 

“Hey!” The security guard barked. 

“Down boy,” JJ ordered, like the suited up man was a dog, “We were just leaving.” 

As the half-drunken trio made their way through the party, JJ spotted a run-down looking surfer at the edge of the crowd. It was John B, of course.

“Woo!” He howled to his friends, “let’s go pogues!” 

* * *

Stevie didn’t know what to expect at Rixton’s Cove, but it definitely wasn’t that their hopeless treasure hunt was back on, and with tangible gold in sight. As John B explained his discoveries, all Stevie could hear was  _ $400 million _ echoing through her head like church bells. She stared into the bonfire wondering what anyone, let alone herself, could do with all that money. 

“All we need is an original survey map of the property…” John B trailed off as he looked down at Stevie. 

“What?” JJ looked up at his friend, eager to hear more about the gold. 

“Do you guys mind if we have an OG pogue meeting?” John B proposed. Pope and Kiara shrugged, and Stevie got up to walk near the water. 

“Hint received,” she said when John B gave her an apologetic look. 

“I get it, it’s fine,” she assured as she turned away. It was their treasure hunt after all, and Stevie didn’t want to impose, but she’d definitely be heartbroken if they dropped her now, after all they’d been through together. 

“So this is about Stevie.” Pope stated once the girl in question was out of earshot. 

“What about her?” JJ asked.

“We never got a chance to talk about it but,” John B explained, “she’s a part of this now?” 

The three pogues all started to speak, but Pope went first. 

“I think she’s cool but, you’re the captain John B, it’s up to you.” 

“No, Stevie’s in this for sure,” JJ asserted, prompting some raised eyebrows from his friends. 

“Of course you’d say that,” Pope elbowed him. 

“What—” John B laughed, confused.

“JJ’s tryna mack on her,” Pope teased.

“Shut the fuck up, Pope!” 

“Come on—”

“I’m not!”

“ _ Anyway,”  _ Kiara interrupted the bickering boys, visibly annoyed. 

“I think at this point, she’s in,” Kiara said seriously, “and you said it yourself John B, she’s got pogue energy.” 

“I know but,” John B hesitated, looking seriously at JJ, “can we trust her?” 

“Yeah,  _ JJ _ can trust her,” Pope snickered. 

“Dude!” JJ hissed, punching his friend in the shoulder. 

“It’s fine if you’re macking on her man,” John B said, “like, good for you.” 

“Ugh!” Kiara huffed, exasperated with the ever-rising testosterone levels of her friends. 

“There’s definitely  _ something  _ going on there,” Kiara waved her around JJ, a judgmental look in her eyes. 

“And I’m not sure if I approve, especially because we're all friends!” she exclaimed, maintaining her glare. 

“I’m  _ not _ macking on her, holy shit!” JJ cursed, “but if I was, then she’d  _ definitely _ be in on this. But she’s not— we’re not, fuck,” he stammered, “Just trust me! I trust her!”

Pope stifled a laugh, clearly amused by JJ’s word vomit. 

“I do too,” Kiara nodded, nudging Pope to shut up. 

“Yeah,” Pope agreed, biting back another laugh. 

“I guess that settles it,” John B said as he looked back at Stevie, who was milling around in the distance.

“She’s in, but it sounds like you got some shit to sort out with her JJ.” 

“If she’s in, she’s officially a pogue,” Kiara asserted before JJ could reply, “and you know what that means.” 

“No pogue on pogue macking, I got it!” JJ exclaimed, holding his hands up like he was at gunpoint. Pope just continued snickering and shaking his head. 

“Stevie!” John B called, and her shadowed figure turned back with a smile. 

“You hungry for gold or what?” 

“You know it!” She laughed as she came back to the bonfire, “I’m just glad you guys didn’t kick me out of, well, whatever  _ this _ is.”

“Of course we didn’t,” Kiara said, reaching out to wrap her arm around Stevie’s shoulder. 

JJ looked at his two friends, one old, one new, and felt that warm feeling glow through his stomach. The fire light dashed across Stevie’s face as she looked at him, a soft gaze turning into a playful smile. 

“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” she said to everyone, but JJ felt her eyes linger on him more than anyone else. He looked back and felt himself blushing, as he realized, there in the firelight, how beautiful he had always thought she was. Maybe it was their cockroach instincts and delinquent tendencies that brought them together, but there was something ineffable about the way she felt in his arms, and he couldn’t seem to shake that moment in the bathroom out of his head. 

As they wrapped up their meeting and piled in the Twinkie, JJ couldn’t help but leave his knee pressed against Stevie’s in the backseat. It was an inconspicuous flirtation, but Stevie seemed to follow along— slapping him or leaning closer when he said something particularly clever, or stupid. Even as he talked and joked with Pope he kept his leg there against hers, wondering about the anti-making rule, and if this feeling running through him was to break it. 

  
  
  



	7. Never Have I Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter finds you safe and well. I'm sorry for the delay, and if the quality of the writing is different. These past two weeks have been mayhem, especially here in ~big American city~. Maybe this can be an escape for you, as it is for me. Thanks.

Despite the chaos of the night, JJ finally caught a good night’s sleep in John B’s bed, heavy and dreamless. Life was always good in those first languid seconds when he woke up, rubbing his eyes as they began to filter the soft light of the room. Then reality sets in. _John B,_ JJ thought. He was crippled at the hospital, about to be swooped up by the Cameron’s and taken to the Tanney Hill estate. Then who knows what would happen to the pogues, let alone the Chateau, with John B trapped in Kookville. But for now, JJ and Stevie had taken over the place. Though not the most reliable landlords, they did a good job maintaining a perfect balance between comfort and chaos. 

Before JJ could worry anymore about his friends or the state of their treasure hunt, a sweet smell wafted in from the hallway, followed by the smell of smoke. He muttered a curse as he jumped out of bed without bothering to get dressed, storming into the kitchen to find Stevie dancing in front of the stovetop. It reminded JJ of their fateful encounter in the Impound Lot, when he caught her by surprise in a sleeping bag. But instead of snarling and bearing a knife, Stevie was glowing, waving a spatula. 

“Good morning, sunshine!” she laughed, flipping what JJ now realized was a fluffy pancake. 

“Shit, Steve,” he sighed with relief, “you’re gonna burn the house down.” 

“Well I came pretty close,” she explained as she plopped the pancake on top of an already tall pile.

“Damn,” JJ said, examining the spread Stevie had set up. The table had been partially cleared, with a bottle of syrup at the center and some instant coffee. She even put out the plates and forks like it was a real sit-down meal. 

“You didn’t have to do all this.” 

The scene sent a wave of nostalgia through JJ, bittersweet as Stevie carried over the precariously full plate. 

“Oh shut up,” she teased, her braids bouncing with each step, “enjoy it while it lasts, who knows when I’ll be feeling domestic again.”

“True,” JJ smirked, wondering if Stevie was aware of her feral appearance, though JJ would never describe her like that anymore. A lot had changed since their first encounter, her hostile exterior had given way to something sweet and genuine— a caring friend. 

“But how do you even cook without electricity?” JJ asked.

“Gas stove, genius,” Stevie shook her head, trying not to linger too long on JJ’s half-naked state. 

“Glad you got dressed up,” she joked. 

“Oh, you like it?” JJ tried to twerk in his shorts before sitting down, “breakfast and a show baby!”

“Ew,” Stevie laughed, though JJ swore she was blushing underneath it. She was only wearing a massive t-shirt, probably John B’s, and she had wisps of loose hair flying around her face. It sent a cozy feeling through JJ, trumping his nostalgia with a new sort of closeness he couldn’t describe. 

“This is really nice though, Stevie,” JJ said seriously, “Thank you.” 

“Well, I think we deserve it after these past few days,” she said as she squeezed the syrup onto her plate. It was the fake kind, all thick and full of chemicals— JJ’s favorite. 

“And they might taste like shit for all I know.” 

She grabbed a pancake with two hands and took a bite, a feral nibble. Not how JJ would go at a pancake but he wasn’t surprised. 

“They’re edible,” she nodded, and dipped it into the expanding puddle on her plate, continuing to eat the pancake with her hands. JJ stacked up three, slathered on the syrup, and dove straight in with a fat forkful. 

“Oh mah gahd—” he moaned, mouth full of pancake, “ee-so gud.” 

“It’s literally Bisquik and water,” Stevie laughed. 

“No man,” JJ shook his head, revelling in the breakfast glory.

“I haven’t had pancakes like this since,” JJ faltered, scraping his knife through nothing, “like, my Mom was around.” 

“So awhile?” Stevie inquired, she didn’t want to pry, but she clearly wanted to know about JJ’s life. 

“You could say that,” JJ shrugged as he took another bite, “she left when I was a kid. I barely remember her.” 

“But you remember the pancakes,” Stevie smiled. 

“I remember the pancakes…” he nodded, for the first time in awhile it didn’t feel so bleak talking about his Mom. He was happy being there with Stevie, enjoying the morning. Sitting across from her at the table, his memories came back to him appearing golden rather than tainted. 

“I remember she used to sing, but I’m not sure what,” he allowed himself to reminisce, “I remember her voice more than anything.” 

They had both stopped eating, Stevie was staring at him like he had just revealed some marvelous secret. Maybe he did. He just smiled a bit and went back to devouring his plate. 

“That’s really sweet,” Stevie sighed, “I didn’t know that about your mom.”

“Yeah,” JJ exhaled, “I don’t really talk about it, not much to say.”

“What about you,” he said through a mouthful, “you don’t talk about your family ever.” 

“Not much to say,” she repeated. 

“Well your Mom used to fish but she gave you her boat,” he said like he was reciting facts for a quiz, “and you said you’re on the run from them or something?” 

“Well,” Stevie took a long sip of her instant coffee, then looked down at it as she spoke.

“Things were actually fine until my mom got married,” she explained, watching the dark liquid spin in her mug, “it was always me and her, but my stepdad changed everything. Mom stopped working to stay at home with his kids, and suddenly she wasn’t the Mom I knew anymore. Maybe it was because I grew up, but maybe it was because of him. He’s a pastor, and a strict one too, and when I started getting homeschooled in high school I just couldn’t take the Jesus bullshit anymore. And I got caught doing all sorts of bad stuff, sneaking out, smoking weed, all that shit. I had to get out, run away somehow, and my Mom knew it too. She practically kicked me out the door. She let me take the boat and never called the cops or reported me missing, but she never came looking for me either.”

JJ put his fork down, giving Stevie the same look she had given him, because she did just reveal a secret, though more heartbreaking than marvelous. 

“A pastor Stepdad, huh?” He asked, and she finally looked up.

“Unfortunately,” she laughed, but it was a painful laugh. 

“Homeschool was basically Bible school, and everything I enjoyed was apparently “sinful,” like Twilight and Game of Thrones.”

“I’d have to agree with that,” JJ smirked, “Game of Thrones is all dragon tits and shit, I don’t think that’s in the bible.”

That made Stevie laugh for real, lightening the weight of the conversation. 

“And then you ran off with Barry?” JJ continued, still eager to know more. 

“Yeah,” she sighed, now ripping her pancake into bite sized pieces. 

“It was like fate or something, or just bad luck,” Stevie said as she took a bite, slowly chewing as if the pancake was the memory itself. 

“He saw me on the road one day and offered me a ride. Then he offered me a joint and a place to stay. The rest is history I guess.” 

“So you’ve been away from home for…?” JJ raised his eyebrows. 

“Almost a year,” she replied with a nod. 

“Damn,” JJ remarked, “you really are a homeless delinquent.” He finally took another bite from his plate, spilling syrup on himself in the process. 

“And you’re really a hot mess,” she laughed, watching the goo roll down his chest. 

“Shut up, I got it,” JJ tried to lick the syrup off of himself, an impossible feat, but he made a production out of it anyway just to get Stevie to laugh. Waking up to pancakes and getting to know her a bit better— it made JJ feel special, like they shared a bond unique from everyone else. They moved past their backstories and onto their usual jokes and recklessness. They were cleaning up but spraying each other with water at the same time, throwing soap and forks across the room. As noon approached, the pair sat propped against the couch, still partially clothed. Stevie had pulled out her walkman, and was holding the vintage headphones between them with the volume all the way up so they could both hear the music. 

They both had their knees to their chests, and while Stevie listened silently, she traced white lines on her legs with her nails. She barely noticed JJ watching her quiet features, softened, and breathing slowly. It struck JJ, how comfortable he felt beside her, and how peaceful he felt himself listening to the music, watching her fingers trace over her legs. JJ leaned a bit closer, so their heads were almost touching.

“What’s this one called?” JJ asked, his ear against one of her braids. 

“Climb Every Mountain,” she whispered, not wanting to interrupt the song. She leaned a little closer to him, sending a current through JJ’s body. 

“Why is this the only CD you have? You gotta nun kink or something?” he whispered, her flyaway hairs tickling his face. 

“Ew, no!” She laughed, turning to scold him, but faltered when her nose almost collided with his. Neither of them moved away. JJ analyzed the glowing look in her eyes, the dusty freckles surfacing on her nose that he had never noticed before. A wave of anxiety rolled through him, or were those butterflies in his stomach?

“I just love the sound...” she paused, trying to discern his facial expression so close to her.

“Of music...” 

JJ kept looking at her, searching her eyes. He could feel the warmth of her breath as she returned his gaze. They seemed to communicate the same longing, the same speechlessness. They were a murky green, like how the brown marsh water looked when it collided with the sea. She lowered the walkman and JJ leaned closer, acting without thinking. Forgetting the rules. Just as he was about to put his hand on her cheek and press his lips into hers, a pogue stampede barged through the door. 

Stevie flinched and JJ jolted away from her, the walkman falling from her hands with a crack. 

“Fuck!” they both said, glaring at their friends. 

“Good to see you too,” John B grinned, looking down at them with a zeal you wouldn’t expect from someone who just had a near death experience. 

“I see you guys made yourselves comfortable,” he observed with a raised eyebrow. 

“You got that right,” Pope sassed as JJ and Stevie stood, both blushing. 

“Put on some freakin’ clothes!” Kiara hissed at JJ. 

“Uh… yeah,” he stammered, awkwardly running off to the bedroom. 

“You bounced back fast,” Stevie remarked as John B bolted through the house, getting something from his Dad’s study. 

“Were going on the hunt!” he called back to her, “get your shit together!” 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , JJ cursed himself as he threw on his clothes. Why the fuck did he do that? He was so confused. He knew it was against the rules but, he still wanted to. He was frantically rummaging to find his juul. He needed to smoke _something_. 

“Goddamn it!” He hissed as he tossed the bed covers aside, finally unearthing his juul beneath a pillow. He felt like an idiot, but he also felt giddy inside. It was ridiculous. Did he really just try and do that? And was Stevie into it? He wanted to kiss her, he couldn’t help it, but he knew it would only end in drama— in Kiara losing her shit, and someone’s feelings getting hurt. 

_Just push it all down and focus on the gold,_ he told himself _. Focus on the gold._

* * *

  
_What the fuck is wrong with him?_ It was the question rolling through Stevie’s head all day as the gang drove around the island looking for the gold, finally landing at the Crane House. It was spooky for sure, but not nearly as disturbing for Stevie as the way JJ was avoiding her gaze, only cracking the occasional joke at her compared to his usual dozens. _Was it because of that... moment?_

It definitely was. She didn’t realize what was happening as they sat there, listening to _The Sound of Music_ , a longing silence sweeping over them, making her want to lean closer and hold him again. At first she was confused, but now she knew for certain— he had tried to kiss her. The way he was acting was proof enough. He was immature, acting on impulse, but Stevie couldn’t stop thinking about it. If only they had another moment, then he would’ve kissed her for real. _Why can’t I stop thinking about it? Is that what I wanted?_ But she couldn’t linger on it too long without filling up with fear and doubt. Instead she tried to focus on the treasure hunt, chatting with Kiara rather than lingering close to JJ. If he was going to be weird to her, she would do it right back to him. 

Once they had made their discovery, the pogues gathered for a meeting on the Chateau porch. JJ and Pope were arguing over something stupid, like Star Wars, while Kiara lounged with her legs crossed over Stevie’s. 

“Padme over Leia?” JJ practically shouted, “are you out of your mind!” 

“It’s not about how hot they are, you dickhead!” Pope shouted back, “Padme has character development, complexity—” 

“Can you guys shut up!” Kiara interrupted, rolling her eyes at Stevie. The two girls laughed, and occupied their time waiting for John B by making fun of JJ and Pope. John B had run off to get something, and to everyone’s surprise, that something was Sarah Cameron. The unlikely pair stepped onto the porch and the bickering and giggling went silent. 

“No fucking way,” Kiara detangled from Stevie and rose to her feet, as if squaring up for a fight. Sarah immediately glared at John B, pissed, then turned to look at the pogues. She was so beautiful it appeared effortless, and annoying, like a Brandy Melville model, Stevie thought. But she was struck by something else, too. There was a softness behind Sarah’s resting bitch exterior, and Stevie watched as the Kook gulped nervously, intimidated by the judging looks that surrounded her. 

“What the hell is she doing here?” Kiara asked John B. Their so-called leader had clearly dug himself into a hole with this one. Stevie could tell from the beginning something was up with him and Sarah, and now that she was here, chaos erupted. Kiara and Stevie were at each other’s necks, with John B in the middle trying to de-escalate the drama. Stevie stifled a laugh as JJ and Pope exchanged a dollar, having bet on Kiara’s reaction. 

“Just because she’s your _girlfriend_ ,” Kie spat, like the word itself had a bad taste, “doesn’t mean we can trust her!” 

“Yes we can!” John B begged for a little bit of understanding. 

“She’s a Kook bro, don’t you get it,?” Kiara sounded hurt, deeply, “she’s fucked me over before— right Stevie?” 

“I, uh, well,” Stevie stammered, looking between the tense expressions of her friends. 

“I don’t know,” she finally said, “I don’t know Sarah!”

“Are you kidding me?” Kiara glared down at the new pogue, making Stevie cower back into the couch. 

“Hey, Stevie’s right, it's not her call,” John B stepped up, deflating the situation a bit. 

“And in all fairness,” Pope jutted in, “Stevie being here sets a precedent.”

“Can you _not_ do this right now,” Kie looked like she was at the end of her rope. 

“I’m just saying!” Pope put his hands up in defense. “If JJ got Stevie, John B can have Sarah Cameron!” 

“What?” Stevie stammered again. 

“What bro?” JJ glared at Pope with the same confusion. 

“This is different!” Kie exclaimed, “We’re all friends with Stevie! None of us are friends with Sarah!” 

Stevie finally caught JJ’s eye, they shared a serious look before retreating back into their own worry-filled heads. 

“I’m not asking you guys to be friends with her, I’m just—” 

“ _No,_ that’s it,” Kie shook her head, stepping up to John B with her arms crossed. 

“Me or her?” 

The ultimatum made everyone hold their breaths. 

“Kie, I—” 

“ _Me,_ ” Kiara interrupted again, “or her!” 

_Fuck,_ Stevie thought. John B faltered, then looked distraught, exasperated as his two closest girl-friends stormed away in opposite directions.

“I’m following her.” Pope launched out of his seat and after Kie.

“I’m getting a beer,” Stevie huffed, marching into the kitchen and propping herself up on the countertop with a cold one in her hand. 

JJ came in a few moments later, looking overwhelmed. He opened his mouth as if to speak but just fumbled awkwardly, running an anxious hand through his hair. 

“What was that all about?” Stevie asked, sounding thoroughly annoyed by the dramatic turn of events. 

“John B’s a freakin’ idiot,” JJ sighed, grabbing the beer from Stevie and taking a long swig. 

“Obviously,” Stevie laughed, then grabbed her beer back playfully. 

“But you know what I’m talking about,” she caught JJ’s gaze. He looked as worried as John B. 

“Why did Pope say that shit about me?” She continued from her perch on the counter.

“I—uh,” JJ stammered, “what stuff?” 

“You know what I’m talking about,” Stevie sassed, kicking him lightly. 

“He said that _you_ got _me_ , or something?” 

JJ leaned against the counter, closing in on Stevie. She looked down at him, barely taller now from where she was sitting. His closeness made her catch her breath. 

“It’s because I got you involved in all this I guess,” he said reluctantly, making Stevie roll her eyes. 

“Yeah but, there was a connotation—” 

“Nope, no connotation,” JJ cut her off, trying to end the conversation, but Stevie saw through it. 

“Do you think it has to do with what happened this morning?” She raised her eyebrows, taking a sip of beer, “when you tried to kiss me?” 

JJ inhaled sharply, like he was panicking. 

“I, uh, _fuck_ ,” he stammered, turning away from her and pacing around the kitchen. 

“I dunno I’m sorry okay!” he exclaimed, not looking at her. 

“Don’t apologize—” 

“No, I’m an idiot!” he hissed. Stevie hopped down from the counter and grabbed JJ’s arm. He stopped frantically pacing and looked down at her, eyes softening. 

“You’re not an idiot,” Stevie assured him, laughing at his melodrama, “it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” JJ said harshly, taking a step back from her. 

“I never told you this, but we have rules here.” JJ’s serious glare made Stevie’s stomach drop. 

“Once you’re a pogue, you can’t, well,” he stammered, “hook up with another pogue.” 

He stared at her pointedly, now she was the speechless one, fumbling over her words. 

“Oh,” she exhaled in shock. It was all Stevie could muster. She didn’t expect such bluntness from JJ. She thought it would go a different way, more like it had that morning. Whatever she was feeling, it was more than a “two teens, alone in close quarters” sort of hook up. But maybe it was nothing, maybe he didn’t feel anything for her at all. Stevie felt her hope tumble and deep dive off a cliff. 

“Yeah,” JJ nodded, flinging open the fridge to grab a fresh beer instead of stealing from Stevie’s. 

“If Kiara found out she would flip her shit,” he explained, “she’s pretty possessive of me,” he added with a smirk. _He sounds like an asshole,_ Stevie thought. Is that what he really was? 

“But you would,” Stevie questioned him, taking a step closer, “if you could?” 

JJ’s eyes widened as he searched for a response.

“I, uh, no?” he stuttered, “I don’t think—”

“What?” Stevie furrowed her brows, confused by his erratic behavior, “then what was that!” 

“I don’t know!” JJ tried to explain, but he wasn’t even sure himself.

“A lapse of judgement?” he said, exasperated, “I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking!” 

“A lapse of judgment, okay,” Stevie repeated venomously, “is that what I am to you?” 

“No, no!” JJ shouted, practically spilling his beer, “Jesus Stevie, I’m just confused!” 

“Well I’m not,” she said defiantly, turning away towards the door.

“Fuck, _Stevie!_ ” JJ called after her as she stormed out of the Chateau. 

“Suck a dick, JJ!” She shouted back, flipping him off. She blasted past John B without even looking at him. 

“Sheesh,” John B shook his head as he walked into the kitchen, “what is up with these women?” 

“Who the fuck knows,” JJ replied before chugging down his entire beer. 

“Damn boy,” John B laughed, “I take it back, what’s up with _you_?” 

“Stevie’s mad at me,” JJ croaked, wincing as the beer foam stung his throat. 

“Well can you make her unmad at you, please?” John B sassed, “I need her help with Kie and Sarah.” 

“Oh come on man,” JJ rolled his eyes, “Just stick with Kie, it’s a no brainer.” 

“You don’t get it,” John B glared, “I care about Sarah, I _like_ her.” 

“So?” JJ sassed, “I’m with Kiara on this one, Sarah’s gonna blow this whole operation.” 

“She’s my girlfriend,” John B tried to explain, raising his voice, “we can trust her! Maybe if you ever had real feelings for a girl instead of thinking with your dick all the time you would understand what I’m talking about.” 

That shut JJ right up. He nodded, sighed, and grabbed another beer from the fridge. _Maybe I do know what he’s talking about_ , JJ thought, thinking of Stevie holding the walkman between them that morning. Then he thought about the way her face darkened when he told her he didn't want to kiss her. She looked like that girl he first met, lost, upset, marching out the door and flipping him off. He felt like an asshole, but he didn’t know how else to act. 

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something?” John B remarked. JJ did look haunted as he opened his second beer, staring off into the distance. Where he was looking was into the distant core of himself, all the emotions he pressed into a ball and forced down, forced silent. 

“I’m still caught up on the fact that Pope actually likes the Star Wars prequels,” JJ deflected. 

“Well, can you snap out of it?” John B demanded, “I need all hands on deck right now to get the girls together.” 

“Oh I’ll help you get them together,” JJ raised his eyebrow, “like a threeway thing? That’s pretty hot.” 

“Jesus Christ, JJ,” John B exclaimed as he grabbed the beer from his hands, “ _Not_ that. I think I’ve got a plan.” 

* * *

The next day passed slowly at the Chateau, JJ woke up alone, covered in sweat from the muggy air that had settled over in the night. Stevie had gone without a trace, leaving JJ with no one to bother or joke around with. He decided a wake and bake was in order, and spent a better half of the day lounging on the dock, numbing his thoughts to a dull haze. Meanwhile, Stevie had gone to her fishing boat and spent the morning switching through the radio stations and munching on a box of cereal. She didn’t know what to say to JJ, so she did what she did best— ran away from the situation. Part of her wanted JJ to appear on the boat deck, run up to her and wrap her in his arms. But another part of her wanted to fill up the gas tank and drive the boat as far away as she could. Both seemed unrealistic, even painful. Every boy who had ever looked at her the way JJ did only wanted _one thing_. How did she know he was any different? 

As she brooded in the sun, a boy did appear on her boat as if she manifested it. But it wasn’t JJ, it was John B. 

“Hey,” she said as he climbed up to the cabin. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

“I went looking for you at the Chateau,” John B explained, taking a seat beside her, “but JJ said you left.”

“You knew where to find me?” Stevie smiled, but there was sadness behind it. 

“Of course,” he smiled back, giving her a playful bump on the shoulder. 

“I need your help with Kie and Sarah,” he continued, “I need them to tolerate each other, somehow.” 

“And you think _I_ can help?” Stevie asked, “I don’t understand girl drama any better than you.” 

“But you’re still a girl,” John B added, making Stevie roll her eyes. 

“That doesn’t mean shit.” 

“Yeah but you’re friends with Kiara and you don’t have any beef with Sarah, so,” he put his hands together in prayer, “can you mediate for me?” 

“I can try,” Stevie sighed. Of course she would, she would do practically anything for her new friends. Plus, she didn’t want the drama either. 

“Will JJ be there though?” Stevie asked after a pause. 

“Not really,” he explained, “I’m gonna trap you guys on a boat so Kie and Sarah _have_ to spend time together. And with you there, you can make sure they don’t kill each other.” 

Stevie laughed, it was a crazy idea, but it just might work. 

“Shit,” she nodded, “I’m gonna need a blunt to deal with that.” 

“Oh of course,” John B agreed, “but what’s up with you and JJ anyway? What the hell did he do?” 

“It’s nothing,” Stevie deflected, looking away from John B. 

“It’s not nothing,” John B replied, “you’re both acting so weird.” 

Stevie took a deep breath, she didn’t know what to say. 

“I know JJ is an asshole but he really likes you Stevie,” John B explained. Stevie narrowed her eyes, unsure what _really liking_ actually meant. 

“I know there’s something going on between you guys,” he said as he stood up, “but can you just forget about it for a bit and come back with me?” 

Stevie knew better than to argue, and part of her was glad she wasn’t the only one who noticed that something was up with her and JJ.

“Alright,” she sighed as she followed John B off the boat, “let’s go save your girlfriends.” 

* * *

The sun was just setting over the marsh, and Stevie watched as the speed boat disappeared along with it. Three silhouettes bobbed in the distance, but she could still tell them apart. One had its arms up, like it was at the front of a rollercoaster, hair and bandana whipping in the wind. It was JJ for sure, and Stevie let herself smile, knowing no one could see. He had given her something, an old altoid box, before she climbed on to the condemned boat for a night stuck between Sarah and Kie. 

Sitting on the bow, she examined the tin box on her lap in the last bits of amber light. Inside were two blunts, hand-crafted with the precision JJ only had for weed and other illicit substances. There was also a piece of paper, a note. _Steve,_ it said in a thin scrawl, he had started calling her that for no apparent reason, _one for you and one for the girls. I’m sorry._

Stevie had to laugh at the simplicity of it. _Sorry for what?_ There was still more for them to unpack, she thought, but she still smiled, raising the blunt to her lips, cupping her hands around a precarious lighter. Kiara was by the cabin, shunning Stevie for helping the boys with their scheme. But it was the same type of anger Kie fired at Pope when he was talking about Star Wars too much, or when JJ said something foul. It was harsh, but never serious. It would pass. Stevie took a long drag from the blunt, knowing it would do her some good. Suddenly, there was a splash from the stern of the boat— Sarah climbing out of the water. She too was keeping her distance from Kiara, and had spent as much time as she could treading water around the boat. The girl’s standoff reminded Stevie of two leashed dogs on opposite street corners, glaring, tense, and ready to bark. 

A few moments later a soggy barbie plopped down at her side. It was Sarah, who sighed as she looked out at the same gold sunset as Stevie. Though, Stevie wondered if it looked any different through Sarah’s eyes. 

“You’re dripping all over me,” Stevie stated, more of an observation than a conversation starter. Sarah hadn’t said much to her since arriving on the Chateau porch. 

“Oh, sorry,” Sarah grimaced, moving away from the most mysterious member of the crew

“You know,” she said after a moment, “John B says you’re the coolest hermit he’s ever met.” 

Stevie exhaled a laugh and shook her head.

“That means a lot coming from a madman,” she remarked. 

“There’s a method to it though, I think,” Sarah smiled, leaning on the railing, “his madness.” 

“Like this,” Stevie gestured to the situation they were in, blunt still between her lips. 

“Yeah,” Sarah laughed, “putting us in a time out so we _have_ to spend time together.”

“Kind of genius,” Stevie added. 

“Only if it works,” Sarah glanced back at Kiara, who was facing the stern and the approaching night. 

“It better work,” Stevie said, almost a demand as she looked at Sarah for the first time. Sitting side by side in the middle of a marsh, they didn’t seem so different. Looking into Sarah’s eyes, kind, and inviting, only confirmed Stevie’s suspicion. 

“If it doesn’t, they’ll blame me,” Stevie added. 

“Well it will probably be Kiara’s fault,” Sarah half-joked, “so I’ll make sure to tell them.” 

Stevie laughed before taking another hit of her blunt. She didn’t offer it to Sarah.

“John B also said you were homeschooled or something?” Sarah asked, urging the conversation onward. 

“Not even,” Stevie didn’t know what else to add. She had a feeling John B had probably filled Sarah in on most of her unsavory past. 

“High school sucks anyway,” Sarah looked out into the distance again, “the only good part of it’s the people.” 

“But you’re hanging out with us?”

“Yeah, well,” she paused, “sometimes you gotta leave the good for something better.” 

That made Stevie smile. She felt her chest lighten, as if it had been closed into a fist and now it had opened, tension released, but only somewhat.

“I guess that’s why I ended up here too,” Stevie said. She was high, but not in a visible way. She just felt tingly, warm, and everything around her made sense. It loosened her tongue a bit as well.

“You know I want you and Kiara to get along,” Stevie said, “but I want us to get along too.”

She paused, weighing whether or not she should continue. 

“And there’s something I need to tell you now before, well…”

Stevie trailed off. Sarah’s eyes widened in concern, and then realization. Stevie exhaled smoke she didn’t even realize she took. 

“Is this about my brother?” Sarah asked. 

_How the fuck?_ Stevie thought. 

“Yeah—what?” she stammered, “Did John B—”

“Yeah,” Sarah nodded, “he told me.” 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Stevie muttered. 

“But I already kind of knew,” Sarah explained, “you know I’ve seen you at our house before? Like a few times?”

Stevie turned pale. Of course, she had been an idiot. She felt like she was getting sea sickness just thinking about it. 

“I’m pretty sure you were too fucked up to remember…” Sarah trailed off, laughing a bit.

“But yeah, it’s okay.”

Stevie fumbled over her words, feeling embarrassed, but also relieved that she didn’t have to explain it all herself. 

“I don’t even know what to say,” Stevie finally laughed bitterly, “sorry you ever saw me like that. And for messing with your brother.” 

“No, I’m sorry,” Sarah said, reaching out to put her hand on Stevie’s shoulder, “Rafe is a complete asshole, I don’t know how you put up with him.” 

Stevie nodded, smiling down at her legs dangling over the water, then at the last sliver of a sun. It was gone in an instant. Sarah watched it too, and Stevie felt more hopeful about their group, their rag-tag gang of delinquents. Where you’re from doesn’t stop you from where you’re going, Stevie thought, or who you’re going with. 

“Here,” Stevie offered the tin to Sarah, “it’s a peace offering for you and Kie.”

Sarah opened it and looked nervously at the blunt, then at Stevie. 

“I’ve never really smoked,” she conceded. 

“Well it’s a great time to start,” Stevie nudged her, “I’m not moving until you two finish that.”

“Alright,” Sarah stood, mustering up her confidence, “wish me luck.”

Stevie smiled again and returned to looking out over the marsh and the deepening night. She wondered what the boys were getting up to now, crushing beers at the Chateau, or riding on their dirt bikes. She thwarted any more thoughts of JJ, of his cocky, entertaining manner, the smirk he gave her when he was goofing around, his ear pressing against her while they listened to music… _Fuck,_ she thought, and turned her attention towards Sarah and Kie. Soon they would be fucking around like JJ and Pope, rolling over with laughter, and all would be well. 

* * *

It was dark now in the marsh, and the boat rocked gently in the murky waters. The three girls were sitting crossed legged on the bow, actually enjoying each other's company like Stevie had predicted. Sarah was floating high, giddy and hiccuping for no apparent reason. 

“Let’s play a game!” she sang, “Never have I ever, let’s go!” 

“That’s so lame,” Kiara rolled her eyes, but continued smiling. 

“ _Come on_ ,” Sarah pleaded childishly, “fingers up!” 

She wiggled her fingers like they were spiders, and started to laugh, then turned into a hiccup. Stevie couldn’t help but laugh herself. _Thanks JJ,_ she thought, putting ten fingers in the air. _That blunt worked wonders!_

“Okay, okay,” Sarah grinned, “never have I ever… uh… blacked out!” 

“That surprises me,” Kiara remarked, 10 fingers still poised. 

Stevie cringed and put down a finger. 

“I’m destined for failure,” she groaned, cursing her recklessness. 

“You’re turn!” Sarah shouted over her complaint, “go Stevie!” 

“Well, uh,” Stevie chewed her lip, looking between the girls. It was hard to think of illicit things she hadn’t done, so she searched her mind for the mundane. All the normal teen stuff she missed out on. 

“Aha!” she laughed after a moment, “never have I ever been to high school!” 

Sarah put down a finger, and Kie put down a few extra to flip her off. 

“Not fair!” Sarah grumbled.

“Agreed,” Kiara joked, “you can’t target us for being literate!” 

“You can’t read?” Sarah gasped, genuinely. 

“Fuck you Kie,” Stevie laughed. 

“Of course I can read,” she explained, glaring at Kie, “your turn.” 

“Alright,” she relented, then said promptly, “never have I ever had sex.”

Sarah and Stevie paused, glancing at each other like it was some sort of standoff. It was the one question Stevie dreaded. She put down a finger and held her breath. 

“Ohhh,” Sarah ogled Stevie like she was a mythical creature. 

“You were right Kie, this _is_ lame,” Stevie put her hands down too. She wanted to play it off cool, but she felt her stomach churn with embarrassment.

“You only say that because you’re losing,” Kiara smirked, seemingly unfazed by Stevie’s reveal. 

“What does it feel like?” Sarah scooched closer to Stevie, eyes wide with curiosity. 

“Sex?” 

“Duh,” Sarah grinned. 

“Give us the scoop Steve,” Kiara agreed. 

“Well,” Stevie started shyly, “it just depends on how wet you are, honestly.” 

Sarah burst into more giggles, and Kiara joined in, unabashedly. 

“That’s it?” Kiara exclaimed through her laughter.

“What about the—” Sarah couldn’t finish her sentence. 

“What about the,” she tried again, then whispered, “ _penis.”_

Stevie shook her head and succumbed to laughter as well. 

“Overrated,” was all she could get out. Kiara and Sarah rolled into each other, and pestered Stevie for the rest of the night with stupid questions about sex.

When the boys arrived the next morning, the girls replaced their goofy smiles with sober attitudes, appearing like acquaintances at best. Stevie was hailed as the great mediator, and held each girl's hand as they stood on the boats ledge, an image of triumph. 

“How’d it go?” JJ asked Stevie, coming to sit with her on the back of the boat. 

“Better than I’d hoped.” She couldn’t read his expression too well through his tinted sunglasses. 

“The blunts really helped,” she added, “some of your finest work.” 

“Hydroponics baby,” he sang with his cocky grin, “only the best for my ladies.” 

JJ took her hand and squeezed it, but before she could comment, or ask about his apology, he let her go, dashing away towards Pope at the helm. She didn’t move a muscle, her hand still warm where he had dropped it on the vinyl seat beside her lap. She didn't move, except for her turning her head to look at at the water, speeding by. She tried not to let her thoughts speed as fast, or as wild, but one hung in the forefront of her mind for the rest of the day. _Being friends,_ Stevie told herself, is _going to be harder than I thought_. 


	8. The Edge of Seventeen

The boys were chilling in the parked Twinkie— their new nighttime spot since the hurricane because it actually had lights and a radio speaker. It probably wasn’t a good idea to keep the engine running, and JJ wondered how much the gas would cost them as he dangled his legs in the tall grass outside the door. He floated in and out of conversation, cloudy and lackadaisical. At this point he had been high all day, and though he felt calm, everything running through his mind— the treasure hunt, the fights— seemed wild and incomprehensible. 

“But it happened so fast man,” Pope was saying as JJ drowned in his thoughts, “how do you know you really like her?” 

“It was fast because it just, _felt right_ , from the beginning,” John B explained from the fully reclined front seat. 

Even the familiar banter of his friends and the hum of the radio sounded distant to JJ, but John B’s words struck him. Or maybe it was his own understanding that struck him. The way John B felt about Sarah made perfect sense, JJ thought. The radio changed and JJ had to focus on the new song— a chugging guitar riff and the voice of a witch rising through the atmosphere.  _ Just like the white winged dove, sings a song, sounds like she’s singing... _

His thoughts floated towards Stevie. As much as he tried to drown them, they just kept resurfacing. He tried to focus on the song, which he seemed to know from the depths of his being. It sounded like Fleetwood Mac or something, but he couldn’t remember the name as he tapped his fingers to the beat on his chest. He was fully splayed out on the car floor, staring at the ceiling through his sunglasses. 

“And when she’s not around, I think about her,” John B was saying, “I  _ miss _ her.”

“So you miss her? Right now?” 

“I mean, yeah, but it’s not that dramatic. I just could be with her all the time, ya know?” 

“You could be with  _ Kie _ all the time.” 

“Yeah so could you! It’s different, man. Obviously.” 

_ I could be with her all the time,  _ JJ thought about Stevie. He imagined her with his blunt between her lips, cupping a lighter as she lit it up. Then she would take a hit and tilt back her angular chin, exhaling with a laugh. She would glance over at him, smirking, and say,  _ what the hell are you looking at, dickhead?  _

“It’s Stevie!” 

“What’s Stevie?” JJ jolted back into the conversation. Had he been thinking out loud? Were they reading his mind? 

“The song,” John B narrowed his eyes, “Stevie Nicks?” 

“JJ’s thinking of a different Stevie,” Pope noted.

“Are you guys reading my mind or something?” JJ sat up, gaping at his friends.

“It’s not hard, JJ,” Pope rolled his eyes, “you’re an open book right now. Just look at yourself.” 

JJ looked down at his lap, confused about what Pope meant. 

“You think that’s where she got her name?” John B asked, “after Stevie Nicks?” 

“I never thought to ask,” JJ said slowly, his mind tuning back into the music. 

_ So, with the slow graceful flow of age—  _

“She’s really done something to you man.”

“Are you sure you’re okay JJ? You look blasted.” 

_ I went forth, with an age old desire to please, on the edge of seventeen.  _

“Shut up!” JJ hissed, the guitar mounting through the bridge, “I’m listening!” 

“He’s blasted all right,” Pope shook his head. The song was intensifying, JJ was offended that Pope and John B didn’t care. 

_ The desire to please, on the edge of seventeen.  _ It was rolling around in JJ’s head like an anthem or a prayer. He knew exactly what Stevie Nicks meant, and exactly what John B meant too. He couldn’t articulate it though. He just kept shushing his friends and laid back down to think further. The boys kept talking, though to JJ it just sounded like a dull murmur, and he stayed there in the Twinkie with his eyes shut long after the song ended and another began. The boys probably tried to rouse him, but he was too far gone, unable to move until the next morning when he found himself curled up in a ball, the car doors still open.

* * *

“Alright we have like, a decent amount of rope here.” John B was looking over the team’s supplies, preparing everyone for their descent into the Crane House basement. Pope was scrawling something on a piece of paper while Sarah and Kiara were testing battery after battery, trying to gather enough for a small army of flashlights. Stevie was standing by John B in the grass, rocking on her heels with excitement, but mostly anxiety. She listened to his plan keenly, but her thoughts were somewhere else— rotting in the dark, musty basement of that decrepit house. Down there, she feared anything could go wrong. 

“Where’s JJ?” John B looked around at the group. The girls just shrugged. 

“Somewhere smoking, probably,” Pope muttered with annoyance. 

“Can you get him? This is serious!” 

“I’ve tried,” Pope sighed, “he won’t listen to me.” 

“Kie?” John B asked. She put up her hands, fistful of batteries and shook her head. 

“I’m not his mom!” 

“I’ll talk to him,” Stevie huffed, knowing she probably should’ve sooner. The awkwardness between them was unbearable. The moment when he grabbed her hand on the boat was nothing. Once they landed back at the Chateau he was avoiding her again, and snuck off as soon as he could to escape with his weed.  _ Weirdo _ , she thought, though she herself was the queen of evasion. 

Stevie made her way through the yard and around to the other side of the house where JJ sat in the tall grass, juul in one hand, joint in the other. He watched her approach, wearing his blue t-shirt. It was too big on her, and the way it hung over her shoulders made his chest ache. He looked away as she sat down beside him. 

“Howdy,” Stevie smiled. 

“Nice shirt,” he remarked cooly, then coughed out some smoke. Stevie laughed. 

“Oh, is it yours?” She knew it was his, but all her stuff was dirty. 

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” he looked at her now, but only for a moment. If he did for too long he got that clenching feeling in his chest that he couldn’t explain. Like when they picked up the girls that morning, talking to her and looking at her had overwhelmed him. Probably touching her too, he thought. 

“Pass it,” Stevie demanded lightly. JJ handed her the joint and she snubbed it out on her shoe. 

“What was that for!” He gasped. 

“We’re leaving soon,” Stevie narrowed her eyes, “you gotta keep the signal clear.”

JJ rolled his eyes. 

“You sound like Pope.” 

“Well, you sound like an idiot,” Stevie snapped back, “what’s wrong with you?” 

“Why is everyone on my dick?” he complained, “can’t a guy just enjoy himself?”

Even as he said it, it felt fake. He was smoking to numb himself, to numb, he realized, whatever this feeling was between him and Stevie. 

“Well, you don’t seem like you’re enjoying anything,” she noted, “you’re sitting here all alone.” 

“I’m enjoying…” JJ faltered, looking around for an end to his sentence.

“... the grass,” he finally shrugged. 

“Clever,” Stevie laughed dryly. JJ could feel her eyes on him, he knew the exact expression on her face without looking. He took a hit of his juul and coughed again. 

“Why are you being so weird?” she asked, almost whispering, “are you avoiding me?”

JJ fixated on his juul, ignoring Stevie’s question. He just shrugged and shook his head, scared of what he would say if he opened his mouth. 

“Come on,” she groaned, tired of JJ’s bullshit. 

“You won’t even look at me!” 

_ Goddamnit _ , JJ sighed, unable to move.  _ What do I say? I can’t stop thinking about you? I think I feel the same way about you, as John B does for Sarah? Does that even make sense? This is so fucking corny.  _

“Whatever,” Stevie huffed as she stood up, “if this is still about the pogue-on-pogue macking, can we just forget about it?” 

JJ looked at her now. Her two braids were falling around her face and she looked tall and statuelike from where he was sitting. 

“I got your bullshit apology last night and I’m over it,” she continued, though JJ wondered if the sass in her voice was a front. She reached out a hand to help him up. 

“Can we just go back to the way things were?” 

“Oh,” JJ blurted out, then nodded dumbly, accepting the out she had given him. He grabbed her hand and stood to meet her gaze for the first time in awhile. She was smiling. 

“So can I get my joint back, Steve?” he teased, still gripping her hand. Even though he stood taller than her now, he still felt like she towered over him, like she was a force of nature. 

“Dickhead,” she sighed as she turned towards the house. Though as she went to drop her arm, JJ kept his hand locked in hers, his thumb pressing on her knuckles. It was the most he could do to communicate what he really meant by all this. She looked at their hands, then back at him confused, but JJ didn’t falter. 

“Let’s go jack some loot,” he smirked, leading her back towards the others. It was exhilarating, those few moments with his hand in hers. He felt her looking at him, but he wasn’t sure of her expression. As they came around from the yard, he let go of her, or maybe she let go of him, JJ wasn’t sure. 

* * *

Once it was nightfall, the pogues piled out of the Twinkie and climbed the ivy covered fence into the Crane’s yard. JJ pictured Holis Crane herself bounding over the fence after finding her Dad’s murdered corpse, he shuddered, but his eagerness didn’t waver. 

“I feel like we're at the part of the horror movie where something bad is about to happen,” he whispered as they crept through the dark. 

“It’s kind of cool,” Stevie commented. 

“Agreed,” Kiara added, giving Pope and JJ a judging look, "don't be such wimps!" 

“So you’re not the least bit scared of a certified axe murderer?” JJ asked with a mocking tone. 

“These girls are crazy,” Pope whispered. 

“No, I’m _not_ scared of some crotchety old lady,” Sarah said just as a porch light turned on. 

“Shit!” John B cursed, and they all ducked and huddled in the garden. 

“Motion sensor lights,” Kiara groaned. 

“This is the part of the scary movie where the protagonists  _ should  _ turn back,” Pope looked between his friends with worry. 

“And then they keep going,” John B added with a smirk. 

“But the lights?” Kiara shook her head. If they kept turning on, they were bound to wake up whatever was living in that house. 

“Can’t we just make a run for it?” Stevie suggested. 

“Or move like, really slowly?” JJ added with a shrug.

“You’re both  _ so  _ helpful,” Kiara sassed, and since she was crouching, Stevie gave her a push and toppled her over. The others stifled their laughter while Kie pushed her right back, muttering curses. 

“Whatever we do, Mrs. Crane can’t do shit, she’s ancient!” Sarah made a fair point. The others agreed, and JJ’s horror story fears were only slightly eased as Kie and Sarah crept away to turn off the porch lights. 

“Hey Sarah,” John B called after them, “ _ be safe _ .” 

“Hey Kie,” Stevie added with the same concerned tone, “be reckless as hell. Hope you get axed in there.” 

“Fuck off, Stevie,” John B nudged her while JJ and Pope snickered. 

“Be safe, Pope,” JJ whispered, mockingly sentimental. 

“I’ll be so safe JJ,” Pope said as he took his face in his hand, “I’ll be safe  _ for you. _ ”

“Pope, _ I love you.” _

“Alright, alright,” John B, interrupted, “I get it, but a little bit of focus, please?” 

“Aye, aye, captain,” Stevie said with a salute. When the lights went off, the four pogues crept through the muggy darkness into the basement. JJ followed closely behind Stevie, who already had dirt smeared on her legs and the back of his shirt. They blended in with the basement shadows, the cement walls dripping with humidity like sweat. Cobwebs shrouded piles of wooden chairs like mounds of bones. When they made it down, Stevie turned around and smirked at JJ, whose expression was blank with worry. She picked up an old baby doll with its eyes ripped out and flung it towards him. 

“Boo!” she called with a laugh. 

“Fuck,” JJ dodged the demon baby and frowned at her, “I’m not scared.” 

He glared his flashlight in her face making her cower, but she shot a beam of light right back, blinding him. 

“Can you guys cut it out?” John B laughed, “we're here for the gold, remember?” 

The pair rolled their eyes and got down to business. Pope and JJ set up the rope and pulley while Stevie tied a few sailor knots around John B, securing him for the descent. 

“Guys I just realized,” JJ said as he looked down the well, “this is some C.H.U.D. shit right here.”

Stevie scoffed. 

“Of course you like that movie,” she rolled her eyes. 

“What, you don’t?”

“What are you talking about, dude,” Pope asked. 

“Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dwellers,” Stevie smirked. 

“80’s horror flick,” she continued to John B and Pope’s confused expressions. 

“It’s completely asinine.” 

“ _ You’re  _ completely asinine,” JJ huffed. 

“Oh really?” Stevie said, stepping up to him playfully, “define asinine?” 

“It’s like… ass,” he stammered, “an asshole?” 

His eyes narrowed down at her as she burst out laughing. He couldn’t help grinning back, watching her eyes squint as she covered her mouth. 

“Holy shit you guys are the worst,” Pope groaned as he leaned over the edge of the well. 

“You can tease and flirt all you want,” John B told the pair, “just not right now, please.”

JJ blushed and Stevie rubbed her elbows, looking away from Pope’s accusatory gaze. 

“Now lower me down, come on!” 

Pope, Stevie and JJ each grabbed a section of rope, pulling it taut as John B went into the darkness. 

“Into the belly of the beast,” he said, giving a final salute. 

As they lowered him down, a thumping sound came from upstairs, but they were too focused on John B to notice. He would call up to them as he went, but for a few long moments he was silent. 

“Are you okay!” Stevie yelled, her hands burning on the rope. The only response they got was a muffled shout. 

“Was that a good scream or a bad scream?” JJ asked, panting a little bit from working so hard against the rope. 

“Good, I think,” Stevie scraped her boots on the floor, trying to keep balance. There was another loud thump from upstairs, then the sound of running footsteps. 

“You have 15 more feet John B!” Pope called down the well. 

“Do you guys hear that?” Stevie moved her attention from the rope to the staircase, barely visible in the dark. John B was yelling from the depths below the house. It was incomprehensible to JJ, but Stevie turned back with excitement. 

“I think he said he found the gold!” she practically screamed, “pull him up! Come on!” 

Just as Pope and JJ were gritting their teeth, pulling on the rope as hard as they could, the sound of bounding footsteps grew louder and louder until Sarah and Kiara came storming down the stairs. Astonished, Stevie and the boys stopped pulling on the rope to see the commotion. 

“She’s coming!” Kiara exclaimed, panting for breath. 

“Mrs. Crane! We need to get out of here!” Sarah added, folded over as she gasped for air. 

“But John B,” Pope groaned. The three pogues heaved on the rope, getting John B up was proving to be much harder than dropping him down. 

Suddenly there was a flash of light and a loud crack which ricocheted through the cavernous basement. It came from a haggard figure on the stairs, moving slowly through the dark. It was Mrs. Crane. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” JJ panicked. 

“She has a shotgun!” Kiara called, and everyone crouched on the floor as more shots rang out. 

“This is the part of the movie where we die,” JJ was leaning back against the taut rope, doing his best to keep John B from dropping. 

“She’s blind,” Sarah whispered, “she can’t aim for shit!” 

Two more shots rang out. The pogues covered their ears and Stevie lost her grip on the rope. John B shouted as he dropped down a few feet. 

“Fuck!” Pope heaved against the rope. 

“Sarah, Kie!” Stevie whispered, “grab on, be quiet!” 

Stevie ran away from her friends and the well while Mrs. Crane crept towards them, as if wading in water. Stevie carefully stepped around the debris and broken glass on the floor, trying not to make a sound. 

“Steve, what are you doing!” JJ called from the well. 

Mrs. Crane turned towards the voice and fired, blasting an old chair to bits. The pogues screamed, but Stevie stayed silent, inching around Mrs. Crane and towards the stairs. It only took a few seconds but time seemed slow as she prowled through the basement like a silent predator. 

“Hey old bitch!” Stevie screamed when she made it to the stairs, “over here, come and get me!”

The old lady turned, grey eyes wide, and aimed the gun towards the staircase instead of the pogues. Stevie went running as bullets flew after her, Mrs. Crane suddenly moving with intense speed back up into the house. Stevie put her braid in her mouth to keep herself quiet. She bit down on it at every gunshot, stifling her screams. 

“Holy fuck!” JJ cursed as the five of them pulled on the rope. 

“She’s gonna get herself killed!” Kiara shouted. 

“Keep pulling!” Pope directed them, “she did this so we could get John B!”

JJ kept cursing and pulling, John B rising abruptly from the darkness. Once he was close, JJ ran to the mouth of the well and grabbed his friends arms, pulling him on to the dusty cement floor. John B was covered head to toe with mud and grime, and the pogues collapsed with relief, just for a moment, until they heard the gun going off again upstairs. 

“We need to go,  _ now!”  _ Pope helped Kiara to her feet while JJ and Sarah grabbed John B, and the five of them were bounding out of the horror with their bodies still intact. All except Stevie. 

Upstairs, Mrs. Crane was laughing maniacally, and Stevie felt like she was in the Shining as she ran through the dilapidated house. Every time the gun went off her heart jumped, and her gut lurched, and she sped even further, finally reaching the porch door.

“Come on,” she groaned, barely able to steady her hands around the rickety knob. She was shaking to her core. She could hear Mrs. Crane’s heavy footsteps coming towards her through the kitchen. 

“Come here little girl!” she hissed like a witch. 

Stevie screamed as she rammed her shoulder into the door and bolted into the night. Suddenly, Stevie was aware of a hot pain rushing through her body. A throbbing that started on the side of her left arm and spread outward, to her hand and back up into her chest. As she crossed the yard she felt wet, and looked down to see her arm dripping with thick dark liquid. It felt sticky on her fingers.  _ Fuck _ . She kept running, feeling no pain, and as she pulled herself over the fence after her friends, the only thing she was aware of was every heartbeat, sending a humming sensation through her body. 

* * *

“Go, go, go!” Pope screamed at Kie and Sarah, who were climbing over the fence in front of him. The gun rang out from the house and JJ turned, thinking about running up the porch to find Stevie. 

“What are you doing man!” Pope grabbed JJ’s shoulder, “we need to get out of here!”

“Without Stevie?” JJ hissed, “she could be dead in there!” 

As he said it, the door slammed open, and JJ watched as her panicked figure clamored onto the porch. 

“See, she’s fine, let’s go!” 

The boys hopped over the fence, Pope practically falling into the van. Kiara was in the driver’s seat, revving the engine and calling for her friends. 

“JJ get in!” She screamed. 

“Stevie!” JJ called, “come on!” 

Just then, her disheveled head popped over the fence, grimacing in pain. She was grimey with sweat and one of her braids was undone. As she leapt down, JJ watched in horror as blood dripped from her hand. He realized as she struggled to stand, that her whole arm was soaked red. 

“Guys come on!” Kiara called from the moving van. 

“Stevie’s shot!” Someone screamed as he ran towards her, then JJ realized it was his own voice. Stevie looked at him, trying to catch her breath. She smeared blood on herself as she wiped her hair out of her face. 

“Guys! Help, she’s shot!” 

Stevie smiled, her eyes rolling back into her head. JJ grabbed her just as she collapsed, and next thing he knew Sarah and Pope were by his side carrying her into the Twinkie. 

“Drive! Hit the gas!” someone was screaming, but JJ wasn’t sure who. 

“What the fuck do we do?” 

“She’s bleeding everywhere!” 

The pogues crowded around her as Kiara sped them into the night in a panic. JJ propped her head in his lap, and felt sick looking down at the blood drying on her face and her jaw hanging slack. Sarah was pouring water into her wound while Pope was spewing medical jargon, but JJ was too distraught to comprehend a word of it. 

“Stevie!” He begged for her eyes to open, and when they didn’t, he finally brought himself to look at her arm. The wound was long, but not deep, and Pope was in the process of taking off his shirt to use as a bandage. 

“What’s going on back there!” Kiara called as they turned onto the main road. 

“Is she gonna be okay?” JJ asked Pope. 

“It looks like the bullet just grazed her,” Pope said with relief as he tightened his shirt around her arm. Part of JJ was upset he didn’t think to take off his shirt first. 

“She’s gonna be fine,” Pope assured him. 

“She doesn’t look fine from up here,” Kiara said, visibly freaking out. 

“I think she passed out from the blood loss,” Pope tried to explain. 

“Yeah, that’s not good, Pope!” Kiara spat, glaring at them through the rearview mirror now. 

“Maybe it’s okay for an autopsy, but she needs a doctor, not a coroner!” 

“And I don’t even have my degree yet,” Pope sighed. 

“Maybe we should go to a hospital,” Sarah agreed quietly.

While they argued, no one noticed Stevie’s eyes fluttering open. The first thing she saw was JJ looking down at her, his blue eyes dark with fear. They widened when he realized she was looking back at him, that she was okay, and he laughed with his hand still on her cheek. 

“No need,” Stevie interrupted. Her voice was hoarse as she sat up. Everyone went silent with astonishment and relief. 

"She's okay," Sarah laughed. 

“I’ve never hated and loved a person more than I do right now, Stevie,” Kiara scoffed, shaking her head. 

Stevie just laughed and looked at John B, who was barely recognizable through all the mud. 

“You really almost died for this,” he stated, but it could've been a question as well. 

“Was it worth it?” Stevie smirked. JJ held his breath, in all the commotion and the blood, he had forgotten about the treasure completely. Now they all turned towards John B. He wore the same smirk as Stevie as he pulled something muddy and rectangular out of his pocket. 

“What is that?” Kiara gasped. 

John B pressed his thumb into the object and wiped away the grime. Whatever it was, it glistened through the mud, and both JJ and Stevie exhaled, knowing the bullets had indeed, been worth it. 

“No way,” Pope shook his head in disbelief. 

“No fucking way,” JJ repeated. Stevie scrambled to sit up, her limbs intertwining with JJ's. 

“We did it baby!” John B howled, “We’re going full Kook!” 

The Twinkie erupted in cheers and laughter, and JJ screamed along, completely baffled by their luck. 

“Full Kook! Full Kook!” Stevie was on JJ’s lap, hugging him feverishly and getting blood all over his shirt. The ride home was so full of ecstasy it felt timeless, and JJ felt content to stay in that victorious moment, surrounded by people he loved, forever. When she stopped cheering, Stevie stayed wrapped around JJ, resting her head in the crook of his neck. He held her, trying to appear nonchalant as the others exchanged looks. Kiara glared through the rearview mirror, and Pope mocked him, pretending to make out with the air. JJ replied with a pointed look that communicated something along the lines of  _ fuck off _ , as he placed his hand on the back of Stevie’s head.  _ We're gonna be okay,  _ he thought, and he didn’t feel idealistic or overly hopeful about it. For the first time all summer, he felt like it was really true. 

* * *

“Just one more,” Pope’s voice strained as he threaded a needle. They were sitting in the kitchen at the Chateau, Kiara having taken Sarah and John B back to Tanney Hill. The smell of peroxide and blood was making JJ nauseous, and he watched as Pope’s steady hand put a final stitch through Stevie’s wound. 

Stevie groaned and tightened her grip on JJ’s forearm, which she had been using as a crutch throughout the operation. JJ thought he could actually feel her pain then, her nails digging into him every time Pope tightened a stitch into her skin. It wasn’t a hospital, or a real doctor, but Pope was the best they could do. 

“And…” Pope said as he tied up the stitch, “done!” 

Stevie and JJ both sighed with relief as Pope wrapped a cloth and saran wrap around Stevie’s arm. 

“Thank you,” she managed to smile, but the dull pain in her arm turned it into a grimace. 

“Thank  _ you _ , Stevie,” Pope replied, “you're the one who saved our asses.” 

“Yeah, you’re a fucking badass,” JJ nodded, looking into her tired eyes. Her hair was down and wild, the front parts damp with sweat. 

“Oh shut up,” Stevie deflected, “I did it for the money, not you assholes.” 

They knew she was being sarcastic, and the way she looked between Pope and JJ seemed to say that she did, in fact, do it for them. 

“Alright,” Pope sighed as he stood, “you should probably wash up and get some sleep.” 

“And make sure she cleans it,” he directed at JJ, “if it gets infected, we’re fucked.” 

“Got it,” JJ nodded as Stevie headed towards the bathroom. 

“I can take care of myself,” she rolled her eyes. 

“But I think JJ would love to help,” Pope grinned. He kept making comments like this, trying to make JJ blush. 

“Why are you always doing that?” JJ whispered when the bathroom door shut. 

“It’s just too easy dude,” Pope laughed then collapsed on the couch bed. 

“You’re into her, it’s so obvious,” he continued while JJ stood with his arms crossed. 

“Oh don’t give me that look,” Pope continued, “you wouldn’t let go of her the whole ride home.”

“Whatever.” JJ didn’t know what to say, so he just sighed and shook his head. 

“Yeah, so I’m taking the couch, you go get after it,” Pope gestured towards John B’s bedroom, which had become Stevie’s over the past two weeks. 

“Wh-what,” JJ stammered, surprised by Pope’s suggestion. 

“You heard me,” he smirked, “goodnight!” 

“Really Pope?” JJ exclaimed, but Pope had rolled over and closed his eyes. 

_ I guess it’s time,  _ JJ thought, standing outside the bathroom door. Stevie was resilient, tough as nails, and JJ knew that even if she  _ did  _ get a bullet through the chest, she would survive. But seeing her truly hurt, the thought of losing her finally became real. And he realized he could lose her from a lot more things than a gun. He could lose her if he continued acting like an idiot. If he kept being an immature asshole, which he was, in some ways, but not with Stevie. The time had come, and JJ felt ready. He knocked twice on the door. 

“Stevie,” his voice was low, almost soft. 

“JJ?” she heard her voice over the sound of rushing water. 

“You can come in.”

He opened the door, and Stevie was standing just inside it, washing the blood from her arms and hands. Her hair was down still, dark and wavy, falling almost to the bottom of her sports bra. When she looked at him, her eyes and cheeks were pink, and she seemed like she was trying to catch her breath. 

“Hey,” he whispered comfortingly, stepping in the tight room to pull her into a hug. It felt like Midsummer’s again, when they were locked in the bathroom stall. She exhaled in his embrace, dripping water down his back. 

“Why are you crying?” he said through her thick hair, his hand pressing into the warm skin on her back. 

“I’m just…” she said into JJ’s chest, her voice shaking, “I’m so overwhelmed.” 

“I know, but you're safe now” JJ pulled away and looked down at her, smiling softly. She smiled back, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. 

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” he said as she turned off the faucet, “I would’ve killed you if you died.” 

She laughed, looking at him in the mirror. 

“You really care about me that much, dickhead?” She teased. 

He looked back at their reflections, disheveled, exhausted, but glowing with relief and happiness. 

“I guess I do,” JJ nodded, then thought about turning towards the door. But he caught his breath, and looked down at her again. He couldn’t leave her if he tried, he realized. 

“And Stevie,” he added, biting his lip as he paused. 

“You know, I can’t just forget it.” 

Her eyes narrowed, but he found his hands wrapping around her cheeks, communicating what he couldn’t with words. 

“What you said earlier today,” he said, voice growing quieter as he inched closer to Stevie’s face. 

“I can’t forget how I feel about you.” 

“How—how do you feel?” She stuttered, her eyes shaking. JJ knew he didn’t have the words for it, so he did what he did best, he acted. He moved without thinking and closed the distance between them. Finally, his lips were on hers, and he felt the same ecstasy he did in the van, except amplified. She pressed into him, grabbing the back of his neck, his hair, and JJ knew it was a feeling that no money or gold could ever give him. Slowly, they pulled away, just enough so they could both smile. 

“It’s about time,” Stevie’s laugh fluttered around him as he pressed his forehead into hers. 

“I’ve wanted you to kiss me since the first time you tried.” 

“Yeah,” JJ sighed, pecking her between his words, “me too.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, contact me on tumblr, postecambrian, if you want to talk about it or if you have any thoughts!


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